


The City

by justkidding13



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Republic City, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-01
Updated: 2015-04-12
Packaged: 2018-03-15 18:24:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 36,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3457265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justkidding13/pseuds/justkidding13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Korra moves from the South to Republic City, looking for a fresh start, an escape from the life she left behind. There, she finds energy, inspiration, love in unexpected places, and a life she never thought would be hers.</p><p>Korrasami. Modern Setting AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I know everyone and their cat has written a multi-chapter modern AU, but guess what, I still cry every time I watch the last scene of LoK meaning I’m STILL not over this ship and never will be, meaning I just had to throw in my version of modern-setting Republic City. 
> 
> The title is from The 1975 song of the same name, mostly inspired by the lyric  
> "If you wanna find love, then you know where the city is"  
> which to me is very beautiful and just reminded me of Korrasami and Republic City, so this is the product of that connection in my brain. 
> 
> This is my first multi-chapter fic (eep!) so please feel free to drop comments on what I can do to improve the story! All feedback is greatly appreciated.

Korra stood up on the pedals of her bike, dodging traffic as she raced to make the green light at the next intersection. A car honked at her as she sped around the turn, but the sound was lost behind her; she was long gone, and grinning like a maniac.

 

It was just past five pm; a golden glow descended upon the city as the sun slowly slipped lower in the sky. Korra was riding home from work, back to the apartment, where a change of clothes and a cold beer awaited her. She blew her messy bangs out of her face as she rode, and smiled again. The wind felt balmy against her face, a calm summer breeze. She turned onto 7th, down the main strip, so she could catch a view of the city skyline before turning down her street.

 

Through the tall buildings, as Korra rode past faster than she ought to for safety's sake, she caught choppy glimpses of Yue Bay and Air Temple Island. The setting sun reflected off the Bay with a magical sparkle, and Air Temple Island positively glowed in all its ivory regality. Korra grinned widely. She'd been here for a month and a half, and still couldn't get over the sheer, unbelievable beauty of Republic City.

 

 _Boy, did this beat home!_ She'd take glowing sunsets and warm summer breezes over darkness and snow any day of the week.

 

This is what she lived for now; racing through the streets of Republic City on her bike, facing the risk of being crushed by oncoming traffic head on, with a mischievous grin and her heart pounding in her ears. It made her feel free, and that was the best feeling in the world.

 

***

 

Korra fumbled with her keys, trying to get the apartment door open with her bike balanced against her leg, struggling to lean over the frame to reach the lock. She finally shimmied the door open, clumsily stumbling through the door and banging her bike handle on the doorframe as she wheeled it in, but ultimately getting through in one piece.

 

The golden glow of sundown filled the apartment, illuminating the couch where Korra found Bolin and Opal cuddled up. They were watching some superhero movie that, after a few seconds, Korra deduced was the Avengers. They turned at the sound of her (loudly) coming through the door.

 

"Hey Korra!" Opal called with a smile.

 

"Mmph!" Bolin waved at her, mouth too stuffed with cheese puffs to properly greet her.

 

"Hey, Bo, hey Opal! I didn’t know you were coming over tonight,”

 

“I wasn’t planning on it, but Bo convinced me to come watch the Avengers with him, even though I’ve seen it twice already...”

 

Bolin swallowed his mouthful of snacks.

 

“What can I say, I’m just irresistible.”

 

Opal rolled her eyes at her boyfriend.

 

“Oh, is that what we’re calling texting me twenty times until I agree to come over? ‘Cause I’d call that _persistent_ or maybe _annoying_.”

 

Korra chuckled at Opal’s teasing. Bolin pouted for half a second before Opal kissed him on the nose.

 

“I’m just kidding, babe. But did we really have to watch _this_?”

 

“Opal, how many times do I have to tell you, the Avengers is the ultimate pinnacle of superhero-movie excellence. It combines...”

 

Korra tuned out the rest of Bolin's Avengers rant (which she had heard twice already) in favor of heading to the kitchen for a glass of water. There, she found Mako, clad in sweatpants and an RCPD t-shirt, hair still damp indicating he'd just showered. He greeted her with a mouthful of chips and a head nod.

 

"You're home early," Korra remarked, grabbing the water pitcher from the fridge. Mako nodded.

 

"Quiet day today. Chief sent us home early."

 

He grabbed a beer from the fridge, then extended another towards Korra. She took it.

 

"Thanks. What's the plan tonight?"

 

Mako shrugged.

 

"Probably dinner. Ask Bo."

 

Korra took a sip from her beer, walked back to the living room and grabbed her bike from where she left it leaning against the couch.

 

“. . . And then when you add Captain America into the mix, it’s just...”

 

Bolin was gesturing animatedly, failing to notice Opal with her nose in her phone, not paying attention to a word he was saying in favor of scrolling through her Instagram feed.

 

“Still on about that, Bo?” Korra chuckled, as she wheeled her bike down the hall towards her room.

 

"Save me, Korra..." Opal mumbled half-heartedly, throwing her arms dramatically over the back of the couch. Korra chuckled again and shook her head, continuing down the hall to her room.

 

Once in her room, Korra hung her bike up on the hooks attached to her wall. Swapping her Sports Basement polo and khakis for a white v-neck and tattered blue jeans, Korra gathered as much of her short hair as she could into a small ponytail and began to walk back out to the living room when her phone rang.

 

She looked at the caller ID, and instantly all the adrenaline from her bike ride, the airy summer happiness drained from her body. _Dad_ flashed across the screen, accompanied by a selfie of her and Tonraq, cheek to cheek, grinning with that same lopsided smile they both shared. Korra sighed, heart dropping into her stomach. It had been awhile since they'd been that happy together. Awhile since she'd even seen Tonraq, much less talked to him. She took a deep breath, and answered.

 

"Hello?" Korra surprised herself with how cold her voice sounded.

 

"Korra. It's dad."

 

Tonraq sounded wary, cautious. She heard him take a deep breath on the other end.

 

"Hi." Korra responded, trying not to be terse but sounding that way anyways.

 

Tonraq was silent for a while, long enough for Korra to consider hanging up. She didn't have time for this.

 

"Look, dad--"

 

"Korra, listen--" They spoke simultaneously. Korra laughed sharply. Tonraq continued.

 

"Korra, I'm not calling to say I'm sorry. Frankly, I don't even think I should be doing the apologizing here. What you did, what you said was just..."

 

Tonraq trailed off, and Korra didn't care to finish his sentence. He took a deep, shaky breath.

 

"I just need to know... Where you are, what you're doing, that you're safe. That's all I need. Can you tell me that, Korra? I know you resent me right now, but I'm not asking for much. I just want to know my daughter is safe."

 

Korra almost smiled. Almost. But it surfaced as a grimace. Korra stared at herself in the mirror on her wall, at her short hair, her loose bangs, her tanned skin and bright blue eyes. The expression of discomfort.

 

"Yeah. Yeah, I know, Dad. I'm in Republic City, staying in an apartment with Mako and Bolin. Remember, my buddies from high school? I've got a job at Sports Basement. I'm just... I don't know, dad. I'm living. Experiencing the world."

 

Korra wished she didn't sound so bitter, wished she hadn't insinuated that she hadn't been living when she was back home down South. But she was still bitter, so it leaked into her voice. And it was sort of true anyways.

 

Tonraq sighed again.

 

"Okay. Okay, that's all I need to know. I... I hope we can get past this one day. But I'm a prideful man, just like you've got pride. You got that from me. And we both know what you did hurt me, a lot, and you need to do your part in apologizing. When you're ready, if you're ever ready, I hope you come back home."

 

Korra glared at her reflection some more. He was right. She wished he wasn't, but he was. He was right about the pride thing, too, though, and Korra wasn't about to apologize right then and there.

 

"Your mother misses you. Give her a call sometime, won't you?"

 

"Yeah. Yeah, I will."

 

"Good."

 

The silence was awkward, and they both cleared their throats in discomfort at the same time. Sometimes Korra hated how similar they were.

 

"I've, um, gotta go, Dad, um."

 

"Yeah. Yeah, me too." He paused. "Take care, Korra."

 

"Alright. Bye Dad."

 

"Bye Korra."

 

Three beeps signified the end of the call, but Korra left the phone suspended by her ear for a few seconds more. Then she dropped her arm, tossed her phone onto her bed before walking back out to the living room.

 

She lifted Bolin’s extended feet off the couch cushion, sat, and replaced them in her lap, ignoring his protests. Korra crossed her arms, vaguely watching the movie but mostly still reeling from the phone call.

 

After a few minutes, she noticed Bolin squinting at her.

 

“Are you okay, Korra? You seem a bit shaken up.”

 

“What? Oh, yeah, no, I’m fine…” Korra ran a hand through her hair. “It’s just, uh, my dad just called me…”

 

Suddenly all eyes were on her.

 

“Seriously?” Mako asked from where he lounged on the recliner. Korra nodded.

 

“Is that that first time you’ve spoken since…” Bolin trailed off. Korra nodded again.

 

“Yeah. A month and a half!” Korra laughed dryly. “I’m honestly a  bit surprised it took him this long. A pride thing, I guess.” Korra mumbled this last bit, soberly remembering her father’s words.

 

“What’d he say?” Opal asked.

 

“Just asked where I was, what I was doing. That’s all. Hopes I’ll come home. Told me to call mom.”

 

Korra shrugged, turned away from the scrutinizing eyes of her friends. She’d tell them to stay out of her business, if it wasn’t for the fact they were the only reason she was able to escape from home like she did in the first place. If it wasn’t for their apartment, their kindness, she’d still be stuck at home. So they were entitled to her business, because it was their business now too.

 

“And this is still about the whole. . . succeeding him as mayor thing?” Opal asked. Both Mako and Bolin gave her a hard look. “Sorry! I’m still a little unclear on the whole situation. Sorry, Korra, you don’t have to answer--”

 

“No, it’s fine. And it’s about my dad trying to force me down his path, rather than letting me take my own. That’s the bottom line.”

 

Korra practically spat out her words, and a silence fell over the living room. Korra sighed, buried her face in her hands.

 

“Sorry, guys, it’s just… still such a shit show. Let’s just not talk about it. What are our plans for tonight?”

 

Bolin instantly lightened up.

 

“Pizza and bar hopping!” He exclaimed, and Korra smiled.

 

“Perfect. I could use some grease and alcohol.”

 

***

 

The second bar they ended up at was a local haunt, right in their neighborhood; a divey little place with wooden everything and a desert theme. The four sat around a barrel acting as a table, perched on high stools, nursing drinks and chatting the night away.

 

Korra had missed these moments with her friends; it made her nostalgic for high school, those days back in the Earth Kingdom getting up to no good with Mako and Bolin at their prestigious boarding school. Moments like these made the three years back home after graduation feel like lost time. Korra constantly wished she’d come to Republic City sooner, gone straight there with the brothers directly after high school when she had the chance.

 

 _But I’m here now_ , she reminded herself. That’s what mattered.

 

“So, Bo,” Korra began, inserting herself back into the present conversation. “How’re the auditions going? Got any parts yet?”

 

Bolin shook his head.

 

“Nah, I haven’t heard back from anywhere yet. They haven’t made their decisions yet, I don’t think. I’ll tell ya, Korra,” Bolin began, taking a long sip of his beer. Next to him, Opal rolled her eyes and muttered “here we go” exasperatedly under her breath. Korra smiled at her reaction, then focused back on Bolin, who was beginning a dramatic speech.

 

“The life of a thespian is quite unpredictable. You go from audition to audition, role to role, transforming yourself day in and day out to fit yourself into the mold of each character you portray… It’s exhausting, Korra, and sometimes, well, you lose sight of yourself with each role, lose sight of your dreams, the bigger picture…” Bolin trailed off dramatically, looking off somewhere above Korra’s head, and Opal patted his arm gently, slid him a glass of water.

 

“Okay, honey. Calm down.”

 

Suddenly Bolin snapped out of his stupor, then turned back to the group with a big grin.

 

“Ha ha, got you guys! That’s actually a role I auditioned for in this local blackbox production about a disillusioned actor struggling to find his place in the world! I think I nailed the audition, if that little sample was any indication.”

 

He grinned suavely, turning to Opal who just shook her head and kissed him on the cheek. Beside Korra, Mako groaned and facepalmed, then turned to Korra and muttered,

 

“No matter how annoying it’ll be if he gets that role, I’m hoping he does. _The life of a thespian-_ ” (Mako did his best Bolin impersonation, which wasn’t very good. Korra had to stifle a laugh) “-doesn’t exactly pay the rent.”

 

“Hey!” Bolin interjected. “Sorry I’m not a hotshot cop like you! I’m _pursuing my dreams_ , Mako. My dreams!” Bolin shouted righteously, standing up unsteadily on his barstool and pumping a fist in the air, garnering quite a few looks from surrounding patrons.

 

Mako held his palms up in acquiescence. Opal forced Bolin to drink more water once she managed to get him firmly back in his seat, sending their server away before Bolin could order any more alcohol.

 

“How’s police work, Mako?” Opal inquired, while wiping pizza grease off Bolin’s t-shirt with a cocktail napkin. Mako shrugged.

 

“It’s been dull lately, to be honest. Most exciting thing all week was busting a couple teenagers smoking pot under the Silk Road Bridge the other night. It’s quiet, which is a good thing for the city, but I get restless.”

 

Bolin’s eyes lit up. He took up a low, dramatic, movie-trailer voice.

 

“The rugged lone wolf cop, bored by simple city police work… goes _outside the law_ to bust criminals on his own terms! Man, Mako, they should make a movie about you. It could be called… _Officer Sharkbrows_.”

 

Korra and Opal burst into laughter, while Mako threw a fake punch across the table towards his brother who dodged and giggled gleefully. Mako did his best to frown broodingly, but Korra could see the hints of a smile forcing its way onto his face. He turned away before anyone could see it break.

 

“Speaking of police work, actually, you’re going to the big gala Saturday night, right?” Opal inquired, after the laughter had dissipated.

 

Mako nodded.

 

“Yeah, Chief wants me there to meet all the important city council guys and their right-hand men. She wants me to get some experience in the more bureaucratic aspects of police work.”

 

Korra looked inquisitively between the two.

 

“What gala?” she inquired. Korra didn’t remember hearing anything about a gala.

 

Opal looked at Korra curiously, then back and forth between Mako and Bolin, one eyebrow raised

 

“You guys didn’t tell her about the gala?”

 

The brothers shrugged. Opal groaned.

 

“Boys are useless,” she mumbled, then turned back to Korra. “It’s the annual charity fundraiser gala. All the Republic City big shots attend -- City Council members, heads of big business, the police force.” Opal gestured at Mako to accentuate her last point. “It’s held at the White Lotus Hotel, in the big event lobby. It’s super prestigious, insanely fancy, and extremely exclusive. You need major connections to get a ticket.”

 

“Luckily,” Bolin cut in, wrapping an arm around Opal and looking at her fondly. “I’ve got the best connection around: a Beifong! Daughter of a City Council member, niece of the police chief… Opal’s taking me as her plus one.” Bolin grinned proudly. Opal smiled at her boyfriend.

 

“Yeah, otherwise you’d have no chance of getting in.” She teased, poking his cheek.

 

“Hey! I’ve still got Mako! You’d take me, right bro?”

 

Mako raised his eyebrows.

 

“I wouldn’t count on that, bro. I’m trying to make a good impression here.”

 

Bolin pouted while Korra and the others laughed.

 

“Who are you taking, Mako?” Opal asked. Mako shrugged.

 

“Uh, no one.” He mumbled. Bolin’s eyes lit up, looking back and forth between Korra and Mako.

 

“Hey!” He exclaimed. “Why don’t you take Korra? Then we can all go as a group!”

 

“Yeah, that’s a great idea!” Opal chimed in.

 

Mako turned to Korra.

 

“Sure, wanna go?”

 

Korra shrugged.

 

“Why not? Sounds like fun.”

 

Bolin pumped his fist in celebration.

 

“Nice! The Krew takes the Republic City Charity Gala! I can’t wait!”

 

Korra felt warm inside, and a sense of pride. She didn’t care much for big fancy events, but she’d just landed the hottest ticket of the year, just by being with her friends. South be damned, home be damned; Republic City was the land of opportunity.

 

***

 

They finally left the bar at around 1 am; Bolin and Opal had started getting gross and PDA-y, and got in a cab to Opal’s place, so Mako and Korra walked back to the apartment alone. As they walked, Mako cleared his throat uncomfortably, and half-turned to Korra.

 

“Hey, um, so, Korra…”

 

“Yeah?”

 

Mako looked incredibly uncomfortable; Korra could tell, even in the dark.

 

“I, uh, just wanted to make sure that, um…”

 

“For the love of the Spirits, Mako, spit it out!”

 

Mako slapped a hand to his forehead, took a deep breath.

 

“I just wanted to make sure that you didn’t take the whole gala thing as having, um… romantic connotations.” Mako just as well squeaked out the last bit. Korra couldn’t help but laugh, somewhat startled. She hadn’t even considered it.

 

“No, Mako, don’t worry. It hadn’t even crossed my mind. That ship has sailed, man.”

 

Memories of high school days flashed behind Korra’s eyes; hazy days, kissing Mako under the bleachers, dumb fights over petty things… Korra shook her head, smiled to herself. So much had changed.

 

Mako laughed.

 

“Yeah, I know. I just wanted to make sure, you know?”

 

“Yeah, I get it. Things can be weird when you’re friends with your ex.”

 

“But they’re not, really. Not between us. And I’m grateful for that, Korra, I really am.”

 

Korra stared at Mako for a solid few seconds as they paused at an intersection. She wasn’t used to this kind of sincerity and openness from him.

 

“Wow, Mako, that’s really…” Korra laughed, left that thought in her head. “Me too. I’m glad we’re still friends, and it’s not awkward, and stuff.”

 

Mako nodded, smiled at her as they continued walking. Something occurred to Korra.

 

“Speaking of… well, romantic connotations, and all that, I figure there’s something I should tell you… I’m, um--”

 

“I know.”

 

Korra looked at Mako, startled. She narrowed her eyes. He just looked calmly ahead, the hints of a smile gracing his lips.

 

“You know?”

 

“Yeah. I know.”

 

“How?”

 

He laughed.

 

“C’mon, Korra. It’s no secret who your rebound from me was.”

 

Korra blushed a deep shade of crimson, remembering the spunky Fire Nation girl she’d been hooking up with her senior year.

 

“You knew about that?”

 

Mako snorted.

 

“The whole school did, practically. You weren’t exactly subtle.”

 

“Weird, I totally thought we were…” Korra mumbled. Mako laughed.

 

“No, not really. But hey, it’s cool. I’m cool. Boys, girls, whatever. You’re my friend, and I just want you to be happy.”

 

Mako cleared his throat uncomfortably again, and Korra beamed up at him, slung an arm around his shoulders. She could tell he’d reached his capacity for emotion for the day (month, maybe), but Korra gave him a side hug anyway.

 

“Aw, thanks Mako. And likewise for you.”

 

“Thanks, Korra.”

 

They’d reached their apartment complex; they got into the elevator and Mako pressed the button for floor eleven.

 

“I’m not seeing anyone, though. Not for awhile, at least.” He added, somewhat unprecedentedly, but Korra didn’t question it. “Just trying to focus on work, at the moment. Focus on myself.”

 

Korra nodded appreciatively.

 

“Good for you, man. You’ve got an impressive work ethic, that much hasn’t changed.”

 

Mako laughed softly, shrugged.

 

“I wanna be a detective, that requires hard work. So I work hard. Simple as that.”

  
They’d reached their apartment, and Mako unclipped his keys from his belt and unlocked the door, flipping the lights on as they walked in. He tossed his jacket over the back of the couch, then flopped down on the couch, putting his feet up on the coffee table. Korra followed suit.

 

“Sometimes I wish I had that kind of drive, you know? That singular goal. I know my dad wishes I did,” Korra said, flipping the TV on and finding reruns of some sitcom. “But I don’t know what I want to do. I have no clue. I definitely don’t want to work at Sports Basement the rest of my life, but I’m happy with it right now. My dream isn’t really about one thing. It’s about the collective, you know? Just exploring things, exploring life, being happy with myself and where I am.”

 

Mako looked at her, nodded appreciatively.

 

“And that’s perfectly legitimate,” he said. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of, not having a concrete goal in life. Everyone has a different dream, and we all pursue it differently. Some of us know exactly what that dream is, and for others, it takes a little exploring to even figure out what that dream is. You’re in the latter category, but that doesn’t make your journey any less valuable, less legitimate than mine.”

 

Korra grinned at Mako.

 

“When did you get so cerebral, policeman?”

 

Mako laughed, shook his head.

 

“You’re right, though,” Korra continued. “ I still need a little exploring to figure out what my dream is.”

 

Korra looked over Mako’s head, out the small window set deep in their apartment wall, out at the skyline and the sparkling lights of Republic City at night. Korra closed her eyes, concentrated hard on the sounds of car horns honking eleven stories below them, heard music floating up from somewhere, notes and lyrics with no source, filling the air with a musical whisper. So much to experience, so much to explore.

  
“And, I figure,” Korra finished, opening her eyes to look at Mako with a grin. “There’s no better place to do that than here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Sorry, I may have gotten a little carried away with the bro!Mako feels.)
> 
> Anyways, yay for exposition! Gotta set the stage, yo. Don’t worry, we get to meet Asami in the next chapter, I promise!
> 
> Oh, and the stuff with Korra and her dad will be made clearer soon. I tried to establish the basics, but I wanted to leave an element of mystery just for the purposes of storytelling. I hope it works and wasn’t too confusing. I hope you’re enjoying so far and again, all feedback is welcome!


	2. Chapter 2

Korra didn’t know what she was expecting, but she certainly wasn’t expecting _this_.

 

It was Saturday night, and she, Mako, Opal, and Bolin had all stepped out of the fancy town car onto the lavish carpet path that led up to the White Lotus Hotel. A big banner hung across the entrance, reading “Welcome to the 32nd Annual Republic City Charity Gala!” in gold cursive script. To their left and right, Republic City elites stepped out of stretch limos, dressed to the nines in crisp tuxedos and shimmering dresses. Korra recognized a man whose face she'd seen only on billboards -- Varrick, she thought his name was, a big tech CEO -- as he stepped out of an adjacent limo, escorting a petite bespectacled brunette woman on his arm. Korra gulped, realizing exactly what they were in for, who they’d be brushing elbows with.

 

They walked up the carpet path, joining the stream of chattering movers-and-shakers heading towards the entrance. Korra, feeling self-conscious, looped her hand through Mako’s arm, who was stiff as a board in his rented tux. Bolin and Opal, on the other hand, were loose and relaxed, Opal greeting people she seemed to know through her mother and Bolin schmoozing up anyone who passed by him.

 

Stepping into the grand ballroom, Korra almost passed out. Ceilings higher than she’d ever seen in her life, chandeliers that seems to be made out of pure diamond suspended from them; gold plated wallpaper, giant sculptures, huge paintings that looked like they belonged in a museum; a massive dance floor, a band playing classic jazz tunes, an open bar… Korra was instantly overwhelmed.

 

“Wow,” Bolin echoed her sentiments at the group came to a standstill, looking up at the tall ceilings. “Well, I’m definitely too poor for this place,” he went on, tugging at his collar self-consciously. “Some of these tuxes look like they cost more than our apartment’s rent!” Bolin gulped as an older gentleman passed by, looking down his nose at Bolin as he strutted by.

 

Opal laughed, but squeezed Bolin’s arm gently.

 

“Hey, you’re here with me. I don’t care that you’re a dirt poor actor, I just care that you’re here. And I think you look marvelous in that rented suit.”

 

Bolin grinned as Opal leaned in for a kiss, and next to Korra Mako made a gagging noise. Korra chuckled.

 

Looking around some more, Korra’s unease returned. Korra, who felt overdressed any time she wore a dress, suddenly felt extremely underdressed in the simple blue number Opal had lent her. All around her, women in obscenely high heels sported lavish dresses, shimmering with sequins and cut in a hundred different styles to show off their sharp shoulder blades, their stately collarbones, their perfectly toned arms. Korra instantly felt out of place.

 

“I’m with Bolin. This is just nuts,” Korra mumbled. Mako leaned down.

 

“Don’t worry about it. These people seem like rich stuck-up jerks, but they’re actually human, believe it or not. Mingle a little, find someone to talk to. There tend to be some pretty interesting people at these events.”

 

Korra clutched Mako’s arm tighter.

 

“Or I could just follow you around the rest of the night,” Korra muttered, eyes darting around uneasily, still sufficiently overwhelmed. Mako laughed.

 

“Whatever floats your boat. It might get boring, though, fair warning.”

 

It did get boring, and quick. Once Korra had become accustomed to the sensory overload surrounding her, she realized Mako was basically here on the clock. He talked with bureaucrat after bureaucrat, and Korra wondered how he didn’t want to shoot himself listening to these old guys drone on about campaign finance and other stuff Korra didn’t understand. Korra certainly wanted to off herself after a certain point, and was grateful for the open bar.

 

They had lost Bolin and Opal pretty shortly after arriving; at one point, Korra’s eyes found them on the dance floor, Bolin busting out some of the moves he boasted in high school, causing many concerned glances from the surrounding dancers and causing Opal to blush profusely. Later on, standing beside Mako talking to _another_ unidentifiable old guy, Korra scanned the crowd to find them at a table with a stylishly dressed gray-haired woman that Korra recognized as Councilwoman Suyin Beifong, Opal’s mom.

 

The night wore on, and Korra sipped her champagne disinterestedly as Mako said goodbye to the man he had been talking to for the past half hour.

 

“Wow,” Mako gushed as the man stepped away. He was flushed pink, the color he got when he was either flustered or pleasantly drunk. Now, Korra thought maybe it was a bit of both. He ran a hand excitedly through his hair, mussing it up a bit. “I can’t believe it.” He laughed incredulously. “I can’t believe it! I just spoke with General Iroh. _General Iroh_!”

 

“ _That_ was General Iroh?” Korra looked at the man who’d just walked away from them. He was younger and handsomer than all the other men Mako had spoken with during the evening, Korra gave him that, but he’d been so boring to listen to that she’d tuned out their conversation completely.

 

“Yeah! And I just talked with him! For half an hour!” Mako was practically jumping up and down, and Korra rested a hand on his arm.

 

“Okay there, buddy. Tone down your fanboying a bit, people are gonna start staring.”

 

Mako ignored her, still grinning like an idiot.

 

“I’ve got to go find Chief! She’ll be ecstatic! Well, probably not, because she doesn’t get excited about anything. But still!” Mako began to walk towards where Chief Beifong was chatting with some bald dude in an orange robe, an Air Nomad from the Island by the looks of him.

 

“That’s my cue,” Korra muttered, then called out to Mako. “I’m gonna go get another drink, Mako. I’ll catch up with you later.”

 

Mako nodded, then hurried off towards Beifong.

 

Korra didn’t need another drink; in truth, Lin Beifong terrified her, and she didn’t really want to be caught in any sort of interaction with her if she could help it. She’d come so far without embarrassing herself tonight, she didn’t want to break that streak by metaphorically (or maybe literally) pissing herself in front of the intimidating Chief of Police.

 

Korra wandered past tables of seated diplomats, through clusters of business heads, dodging dancing firemen and councilmembers and politicians. After the initial shock of arriving at such an obscenely fancy event, in a world entirely different from the one she came from, Korra had gotten used to it all, the alcohol and boring conversations taking the edge off her fear.

 

As she made her way over to the bar, Korra realized that this wouldn’t be too different from the kind of event she would have to attend back home. On a smaller scale, of course; there was nothing even remotely this fancy down South, but still. As mayor, she would’ve had to make her rounds like Mako had been, schmoozing with CEOs and police chiefs, making small talk with every important person whose endorsement she needed for the next round of elections. She’d seen her dad do it time and time again growing up.

 

Korra ordered some fancy cocktail at the bar, and sat slowly sipping it. She thought about her dad, thought about their fight, felt guilty, felt angry, then ultimately, felt glad with her decision. It was better to be at one of these as a plus one, Korra decided, as she ordered another free drink, than as an important city official. Anonymity was what she craved, what she had always wanted as the mayor’s daughter in a small town. Here, no one knew her. No one even looked her direction, and that was just fine with her. She looked across the room, found Mako talking up some other old bureaucrat. She finished her drink and hopped off the bar stool.

 

_Yeah_ , she thought. _It’s better this way._

 

She knew deep in her heart the way she told her dad she didn’t want to succeed him as mayor wasn’t even remotely the right way to go about that, but it was too late now; it was done, she was here, in Republic City, away from her dad’s disappointment and shame, and here was where she wanted to stay.

 

Korra wandered around for a bit, admiring the artwork, enjoying the music, never standing in one place for too long in fear of being swooped up into someone’s conversation where she’d have to reveal she was merely a plus one, not some diplomat’s daughter or CEO’s intern.

 

She eventually found herself in a side room, still part of the main ballroom, but more secluded and quiet. It was darker, with maroon walls and paintings hung up all over. The room was filled with plush loveseats, and a few tired women, probably wives and daughters and girlfriends of important guests, sat alone, heels kicked off, massaging their feet and checking their text messages. Save for them, the room was nearly empty; it was quiet, the almost deafening sounds of chatter and music drifting from the main room were muted here, and it was a nice respite.

 

Korra got lost in some of the paintings on the walls, especially mesmerized by a stunning landscape of what looked suspiciously like the South, shimmering snow and deep blue sky and Aurora lights splashed across the canvas.

 

“That’s a beautiful one, isn’t it?” A voice sounded by Korra’s left, a voice that sounded like pure crystal to Korra’s ears. Korra turned toward this voice, and nearly fell over.

 

Standing a few feet away, smiling at her, was a woman. Dressed in a tight-fitting, low-necked ruby red dress, adorned in gold jewelry that looked more fragile and expensive than the chandeliers in the main ballroom, with raven hair gently curling over pale shoulders and eyes the most interesting, beautiful shade of green Korra had ever seen, was a woman, the most beautiful woman Korra was convinced she’d ever seen, staring at her, smiling at her, walking towards her…

 

The woman stopped next to Korra, then turned to look up at the painting Korra stood before. Up closer, Korra was surprised at how young she looked; probably not much older than Korra herself. _Diplomat’s daughter_ , Korra guessed. _Or maybe royalty. Are there any royalty in Republic City? If so, she’s got to be a freaking princess._

Korra snapped out of her thoughts, remembering the woman had said something. About… what? Korra was distracted by the close proximity, the faint jasmine scent that radiated from the woman next to her.

 

“The detail on the sky, it’s just stunning.” The woman went on, still staring up at the painting. _Oh, right! The painting._

 

The woman turned back to look at her expectantly, one eyebrow cocked, and Korra found her mouth had gone dry under the scrutiny of that green gaze.

 

“Um, yeah. Stunning.” Korra agreed, then forced herself to snap out of it. “But it’s even more stunning in person.”

 

The woman smiled, raised both her eyebrows, interested.

 

“No doubt. You’ve been down South?”

 

There was a split second, the tiniest window of opportunity, a single chance for her to reinvent herself however she wanted. She didn’t have to be the mayor’s daughter from a tiny Southern town. She didn’t have to be an un-college-educated 22-year-old without a clue what she wanted to do in the world. She didn’t have to be Korra, even. But Korra let that window pass. There was something about this woman, something in the way she carried herself with such natural grace that made Korra want to tell her every single thing about herself.

 

So she responded simply, with a shy smile.

 

“I’m from the South.”

 

The woman grinned broadly.

 

“No kidding! I mean, you look the part, but plenty of people do around here. Born and raised?”

 

Korra nodded.

 

“Born and raised,” she affirmed.

 

The woman tapped her chin in thought.

 

“So, then, I’m gonna guess… diplomat’s daughter?”

 

Korra blinked for a moment before realizing what she meant, then laughed and shook her head.

 

“Oh, no, no. I work at the Sports Basement in the Little Ba Sing Se Fashion Mall. I share an apartment with two dudes. I’m just here as a plus one.”

 

The woman laughed, and it sounded like music in its purest form. Korra felt her heart leap in her chest. She looked back at Korra almost shyly, admiringly.

 

"What's your name?" she asked.

 

Korra extended her right hand.

 

"I'm Korra."

 

"Nice to meet you, Korra."

 

The woman took her proffered hand, shook it gently yet firmly. Her skin was smooth, and Korra got a close up of the gold bracelets dangling from her wrist. They looked even more expensive up close than from afar.

 

"And you are...?" Korra asked expectantly, following the silence that occurred after she introduced herself.

 

The woman stared at her for a solid few seconds, her expression not... offended, exactly, but confused, green eyes slightly narrowed and eyebrows slightly furrowed, as if Korra were supposed to have recognized her from somewhere. Korra racked her brain, but couldn't remember having met this woman before. She was sure she would definitely know if she had. The kind of beauty and grace the woman possessed was unlike that in anyone else Korra had ever met.

 

After a moment of silence, the woman seemed to shake herself out of it.

 

"I'm Asami," she said with a smile.

 

Asami. _Asami_. Everything about this woman made sense.

 

“That’s a beautiful name,” Korra remarked, trying hard not to blush. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Asami.”

 

“Thank you,” Asami said, her own cheeks coloring slightly.

 

They were silent for a few moments, until Korra’s curiosity got the better of her.

 

“So why are you here, Asami? I don’t want to try and guess, in case I get it horribly wrong and offend you…” Korra laughed a little at herself, but suddenly Asami got that look again, that scrutinizing look. Korra felt extremely self-conscious for a few moments before Asami turned away, eyes getting distant as she peered back through the large doorway to the main ballroom.

 

“I’ve got… connections,” Asami finally said, with a vague wave of her hand. Korra wondered what she had said to prompt this sudden withdrawal, but just as Korra began to worry, Asami turned back to her with a smile.

 

“How do you feel about dancing, Korra?”

 

Korra felt her chest constrict tightly.

 

“Um, I…” Korra’s eyes darted left and right, avoiding Asami’s gaze and blushing. She wasn’t a good dancer to begin with, but throw a pretty girl into the mix, and well, she was hopeless.

 

Asami chuckled, extended a hand.

 

“C’mon,” she urged gently, and Korra couldn’t refuse the softness in those green eyes, slipping her hand into Asami’s and letting herself be pulled back into the main ballroom, out onto the dance floor.

  
  


Suddenly, there she was. On the dance floor, swaying to cool jazz with a total stranger. A beautiful stranger, Korra reminded herself. Asami guided them with their outstretched clasped hands, her other resting on Korra’s shoulder, and Korra’s other hand tentatively resting on Asami’s hip. Asami seemed to notice her hesitation.

 

“You can relax a little, Korra,” she leaned in to whisper. Korra blushed.

 

“Sorry, I’m a little… new to dancing, and sorta drunk, and…” _Drunk? Are you an idiot?_ Korra chastised herself, but Asami just laughed.

 

“You don’t seem that drunk, compared to some of the other people here.” Asami remarked, eyes scanning the crowd. Korra followed her gaze to a couple older gentlemen trying to tap dance way out of rhythm with the slow tunes drifting from the seven-piece band. “Just be glad you aren’t them,” Asami whispered with a chuckle, as cameramen hired for the event swarmed to catch the moment on tape.

 

“Oh, I am,” Korra murmured, suddenly feeling cocky again. “I’m in much better company, after all.”

 

Asami pulled her in closer, if just a tad, but still noticeably, and smiled. Korra followed the curve of Asami’s red lips with her eyes, the curve of Asami’s waist with her hand.

 

They danced for a while; Korra lost track of time in the pale green of Asami’s eyes. They chatted, murmuring low and close, Korra being just a tad too obviously flirtatious in the way that only she could pull off, and Asami remaining coy and composed. Korra discovered her new favorite thing in the world was making Asami laugh, low and musical, close enough to her ear to feel Asami’s breath tickle her skin.

 

This; dancing closely with a beautiful stranger in a room full of strangers, this wasn’t something Korra would’ve gotten back home.

 

They danced until the band stopped playing for a ten minute break, and Asami led Korra, dizzy and breathless, by the hand off the dance floor and to the bar. They perched on barstools, and Asami ordered them two drinks Korra didn’t catch the name of, then pulled her stool closer to Korra’s. She leaned her elbow against the bar, and tilted her head adorably, almost sleepily, looking at Korra with piqued interest.

 

“So, Korra, tell me: what’s it like down South?”

 

Korra took a sip of the cocktail Asami had ordered her. Fruity, girly, vodka-y -- not bad.

 

“Cold. Very very cold.” Korra said matter-of-factly.

 

“I guessed that much, thanks, smartass.” Asami said with a scoff and a teasing twinkle in her eye. “Come on, what’s it really like?”

 

Korra shrugged.

 

“I don’t know what else to say! It’s cold, the days are super short, people go fishing and ride around in boats, not much else happens. It’s pretty dull, really.”

 

Asami swirled her cocktail around in its glass.

 

“I don’t believe that. I guess I’ll have to see it for myself.” Asami smiled coyly.

 

“I guess you will,” Korra murmured, returning the smile shyly.

 

A pause. Asami sipped her drink; Korra did the same. Then Asami spoke again.

 

“So you’re from the South. Born and raised.”

 

Korra nodded to affirm this fact.

 

“Then what are you doing here, if you’re not a diplomat, or related to one -- if you don’t mind my asking?”

 

This time, for some reason, Korra decided to be vague, resisted the urge to tell this stranger all her secrets. Korra was sure there was something Asami wasn’t telling her anyway, remembering her withdrawal when Korra had asked why she was here, so she wanted the power of anonymity herself as well. Made things more equal, she thought.

 

Korra shrugged.

 

“Needed a change, I guess. I started feeling… I don’t know, cooped up, if that makes sense. Living in a tiny town all your life, it gets boring, and tiring. I wanted a new adventure.”

 

Asami nodded, eyes doing a full sweep of the giant ballroom and their surroundings.

 

“Well, you’ve certainly come to the right place.” she said, gesturing behind them at the endless clusters of people.

 

“That’s what I continue to realize every day,” Korra said with a smile. This sentiment she didn’t feel the need to hide. “Republic City is a whole other world.”

 

Asami’s lips turned up at the corners and she laughed softly, but that distance was there again, vaguely.

 

“Truly.” she replied simply, but she was gone, back to that place that Korra knew nothing about, and Korra wanted to pull her back.

 

“Were you born here?” she asked. Asami nodded, gaze meeting Korra’s once more.

 

“Born and raised,” she said with a small smile, but there was a hint of sadness in her eyes. Korra wanted to ask about it, wanted to tuck that loose strand of black hair behind her ear, wanted to rest her hand on her pale face and just _ask_ , but she didn’t. Instead, she said nothing, sipped at her drink, wondered how this was all happening to her right now.

 

Asami came back after a few moments, smiling brightly at Korra as if nothing had happened.

 

“How long have you been in the city?” she asked Korra.

 

“A month and a half, give or take.”

 

Asami’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.

 

“A month and a half! You’re really fresh off the boat, then, huh?” She asked, a teasing lilt in her voice. Korra laughed, nodded.

 

“I guess I am.”

 

“And you’ve, what, got friends you’re living with?”

 

“Yeah, my buddies from high school. One’s an actor, one’s a cop. They’re both here tonight, actually…” Korra trailed off, looking over her shoulder, trying to spot either of the brothers or Opal. For once she couldn’t find them, and she wondered if they even noticed she was gone. If they left without her. Korra realized she didn’t care. She decided she’d stay here with Asami forever, if she could.

 

“Well, I don’t see them, but you should meet them! They’ve been living here for three years, I’m sure you guys could find someone in common that you both know.”

 

Asami shrugged.

 

“I don’t know, I’d rather like to keep you to myself this evening,” Asami murmured, flipping her hair over one shoulder and leaning closer. Korra blushed profusely, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that Asami was flirting to mask another bout of distance and sadness in her eyes.

 

“Oh, hey, you might know Opal! Opal Beifong? My friend Bolin, the actor, he’s dating her.”

 

Asami nodded knowingly, smiled.

 

“I know Opal. We went to school together, here in the city.”

 

Korra’s eyebrows flew up.

 

“Really? Wow! That’s wild! I’ll totally tell her I met you tonight,” Korra said excitedly. Asami smiled, but she turned away again, and the transition was so sudden that this time Korra couldn’t keep herself from asking. She looked at Asami with concern.

 

“Hey, is everything okay? I don’t mean to be presumptuous or anything, but you seem, I don’t know, sorta sad every so often. Am I saying something that’s --”

 

Asami turned back to her suddenly, grasped her hand.

 

“No, Korra, no, it’s not you, I promise. I’m fine. Just… A little tired.”

 

Asami was lying, Korra could tell, but she didn’t press further. Asami knocked back the rest of her drink, then assumed her original position, leaning her elbow against the bar and her chin on her palm.

 

“So, fresh off the boat, newbie, how much of the city have you seen in your short stay?”

 

“A fair amount, I’d say. We go out a lot, me and my friends. And I got this sweet road bike that I ride all over the place.”

 

“You been to Air Temple Island yet?”

 

Korra shook her head.

 

“How about out on the ferry around Yue Bay?”  
  


Korra shook her head again, starting to feel sheepish.

 

“No?” Asami raised her eyebrows. “What about the Arena? We’ve got a pretty awesome basketball team.”

 

Korra shook her head again.

 

“Not even to a Fire Ferrets game?!” Asami slammed her fist on the bar counter in mock righteousness. “That’s it, I’m taking you out. I’ve gotta show you around the city. You can’t live here and _not_ go to a Fire Ferrets game, or see the city by night from Yue Bay, or try some of that funky Air Nomad cuisine on the island.”

 

Korra cocked her head at Asami. Was she… asking her out? Korra smiled.

 

“That all sounds very tempting. I’m intrigued.”

 

Suddenly, Asami was so close to Korra, closer than she’d been all night. A hand was creeping up her thigh, and Asami’s face was serious, almost comically so.

 

“Korra, I have a serious question for you.” Asami’s voice was low and murmured. Korra gulped, trying to remember how to breathe with a hand resting on her leg and the smell of jasmine overwhelming her.

 

“What’s that?”

 

“How would you like your own personal tour of Republic City? Tour guide and chauffeuring included.”

 

“I’d like that very much, I think, if that tour guide is you.” Korra whispered back.

 

Asami broke into a wide grin then, pulling away suddenly and laughing.

 

“Good. Excellent. I’m the best damn tour guide you’ll ever have.”

 

Korra smiled, heart pounding in her chest. She was pretty sure the most beautiful woman at the whole damn gala had just asked her out.

 

Suddenly, she heard a name being called from behind them, distinct among the low burble of chatter constantly filling the room.

 

“Miss Sato!”

 

Asami turned in response. Korra followed her gaze, and nearly fell off her bar stool. Standing just a few feet away was a small cluster of three people: Lin Beifong, that Varrick guy, and… President Raiko? Actually, in the flesh, President Raiko? No doubt, it was him. Raiko was motioning for Asami to come over and join them, and Asami groaned exasperatedly. Groaned?

 

“Damn it,” Asami muttered under her breath, then turned back to Korra. “Korra, I’m so sorry, if it were up to me I’d spend the rest of the night here with you at this bar, I swear to the Spirits, but I’ve got to entertain these goons…” Asami was talking fast now, and her hands were flying over the stacks of cocktail napkins, the elegant silver cocktail stirrers, the empty dishes of nuts in front of them before her fingers came up with a pen and a napkin. She scrawled something on the napkin quickly, crumpled it up, and shoved it into Korra’s hand.

 

“It was so lovely to meet you, really, I’m so sorry I have to run off like this, but there’s my number, give me a call when you’re ready to see the city!”

 

Asami smiled, winked, then she was gone, hopping off the barstool and hurrying over to Raiko and the others, putting on a fake smile as Raiko leaned in for a cordial kiss on the cheek. Korra could feel Beifong’s metallic eyes on her for a split second, but Korra didn’t have the emotional capacity to be intimidated. She was too caught up in the whirlwind that was Asami.

 

The suddenness, the rush to leave, the phone number (Korra uncrumpled the napkin, just to be sure, and sure enough, there were ten digits and Asami’s name in loopy handwriting), the wink, the offer to call, and, wait, did she call President Raiko, Chief Beifong, and the CEO of Varrick Tech… _goons_?

 

It took awhile for her brain to catch up with everything, but once she did, she laughed. Just laughed, out loud, alone on that bar stool with Asami’s scent still lingering in the air, her bar stool still shifted towards Korra, as if the ghost of her still sat there, watching Korra with those green eyes, those red lips curled in a smile.

 

Korra looked back over to where Asami had gone, only to find her and the others had disappeared into the crowd, without a trace. Korra scanned the crowd for a red dress, for jet black hair, and found nothing.

 

If it weren’t for the cocktail napkin grasped tightly in her hand, Korra wouldn’t be so sure Asami wasn’t a ghost all along.

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was fun to write. :)
> 
> So, some world building: Varrick Industries is Varrick Tech -- think something like Sony in our world; that seems more appropriate for a modern setting. I’ll build more on that later. Suyin is a City Council Member; for the purpose of simplicity, all the Beifongs are in Republic City. 
> 
> Also I know the “Asami smells like jasmine” headcanon is so overused but that’s cuz it totally works so I’m using it, sorry for being cliche. 
> 
> Thanks for sticking with me this far, I hope you’re inclined to read on! I don’t have a set update schedule, but I’m hoping I can post a new chapter at least every weekend. Feedback is encouraged and appreciated!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (In which Korra is a smitten nerd, and Mako and Bolin have some humbling news.)

Korra awoke with a slight hangover and the vaguest memory of getting home the night before. Hazy memories of reuniting with Opal, Bolin, and Mako became slowly clearer in her mind, but she couldn’t tell if the memory of sharing a limo with that Varrick guy and his wife was real or just a dream… She’d have to ask the boys about that later. She does remember emptying the limo’s champaign supply, though, lots of shouting and loud music during the ride home, and her and Mako having to practically carry Bolin up to the apartment on account of his drunkenness. Korra had then shed her dress, donned a t-shirt, and collapsed into bed as soon as they’d gotten home.

Having reoriented herself, Korra slowly opened her eyes, squinting against the midmorning brightness of her bedroom. Letting her eyes adjust, she saw the blue dress in a heap on the floor next to her bed, heels discarded clumsily next to it. Shifting towards her end table, Korra reached for her phone to check the time when her fingers brushed paper instead. Korra looked up, saw the napkin and the loopy handwriting, and suddenly grinned widely.

She’d gotten a phone number.

And not just any phone number. _Asami’s_ phone number. Asami… uh… What was her last name again? Korra couldn’t remember, but she supposed it didn’t matter all that much. She’d gotten a pretty girl’s phone number, and that’s all she cared about.

_Asami_.

The name echoed off the walls of Korra’s mind, musically so, hearing Asami’s voice and the way she’d introduced herself. The name brought forth memories of pale skin, soft hands, glittering green eyes, the smell of jasmine, and those red lips curved in a coy smile. _Asami_.

All the memories of the gala came rushing to the surface of Korra’s mind. The dancing, the talking, the offer to show her around the city… Korra was having trouble believing it had all actually happened. But it had, because she was holding a napkin with a phone number on it, she had the promise of a future meeting conveyed in a rushed goodbye and a smile and a wink.

Korra snuggled deeper into her blankets in sheer delight, grinning widely to herself. _Thank you Opal for bringing up the gala, thank you Mako for taking me, thank you General Iroh for distracting Mako, thank you Lin Beifong for being so terrifying I’d rather wander around a room of strangers than talk to you,_ Korra thought happily, grateful for all the little moments that had aligned to put her in that exact spot, standing in front of that painting when Asami walked into the room.

Korra lay in bed, just clutching the napkin and smiling to herself, for a good long time, until a loud growl from her stomach forced her up and out of the comfort and warmth of her bed and her memories. She set the slightly crumpled napkin carefully back on her bedside table, and grabbed her phone. It was eleven; not as early as Korra wanted to be up considering the late night they’d had, but her need for food and coffee was too strong to ignore.

Pulling on sweatpants before leaving her bedroom, Korra lumbered down the hallway in a sleepy, happy daze. She found Mako at the kitchen table, huddled over the newspaper with a cup of coffee in nothing but a tank top and boxers; Bolin was similarly dressed on the couch, a leg dangling over the back watching Adventure Time on TV and eating cereal straight out of the box, looking just as hungover as Korra expected he would. They both looked up at her as she entered, and Korra must have forgotten to wipe the stupid grin off her face, because Mako scoffed at her as she plopped down in the seat adjacent to him, thoughts of red lips and raven hair still filling her mind.

“Someone had a good night last night,” Mako commented, eyebrows raised. Korra just smiled at him, resting her chin in her palm.

“Who’s number did you land, then?” Bolin asked from the couch, grinning at Korra.

“Yeah, you disappeared for awhile there. They must’ve been quite a catch.” Mako added. Korra was silent for a few moments, trying to figure out how to even put Asami into words, before she just blurted out everything, gushing like a lovestruck teen.

“You guys, oh Spirits, you guys have no idea. She. Was. _Incredible_. She was tall and elegant and _insanely_ beautiful and we danced and talked and I think she actually asked me out? Like, actually, asked me out. Me! Out! Like on a date!”

Bolin was grinning at her from his place on the couch, and Mako raised his eyebrows appreciatively.

“I told her I was fairly new in town, so she offered to take me around the city, show me different places, and she gave me her number, and oh Spirits, she was amazing. And her name’s Asami. Asami! How perfect is that?”

But suddenly Mako stiffened, froze mid-sip of coffee, and Bolin sat up abruptly.

“Asami what?” Mako pressed, amber eyes boring into Korra’s. Bolin’s gaze pierced her scrutinizingly from where he sat on the couch.

“Uh…” Korra blushed, startled by the brothers’ sudden reaction and embarrassed by the fact she couldn’t remember her last name. “I, um, don’t remember. I don’t think she ever told me directly, someone called her by her last name but I can’t recall --”

“Asami _Sato_?” Bolin interjected. Korra brightened immediately, remembering President Raiko calling Asami over.

“Yes! Sato! That’s it. Asami Sato.”

Bolin suddenly leapt from the couch, crossing to take the third seat at the table, and he and Mako exchanged wary glances before turning hard gazes back to Korra. Korra leaned back in her chair, suddenly feeling extremely self-conscious.

“Uh, guys, what’s going on…?”

Bolin and Mako exchanged another glance, before Mako leaned forward.

“Korra, does that name not ring a bell for you?”

“Uh… no?”

“Not even slightly familiar?” Bolin chimed in. Korra shook her head slowly, and the brothers exchanged yet another unreadable glance, all raised eyebrows and surprise.

“Can you guys stop being cryptic weirdos for a second and tell me what the hell’s going on?” Korra was starting to get freaked out, especially remembering how Asami had acted when they first met, like she had expected Korra to recognize her.

Bolin and Mako hesitated, and Korra began to get frantic.

“Is this some kind of prank? Am I being punked?”

Mako snorted, breaking his serious stare.

“No, Korra, you’re not being punked. Nothing’s… going on, really. Are you sure you don’t recognize the name Sato?”

“For the love of the Spirits, Mako, I’m positive.”

Another glance between the brothers.

“Alright, what about the name Future Technology Company?”

Korra nodded.

“Yeah, of course. Massive corporation, owns a bunch of social media sites, pretty much monopolized all Internet-related services. They’ve got the biggest tower in downtown. Everyone knows about Future Tech,” Korra rattled off the list impatiently. “What does this have to do with Asami?”

Mako just stared at her expectantly, and Korra stared confusedly back until suddenly, the light bulb went on in her head. The expensive-looking jewelry, the vagueness of Asami’s introduction, the President of the entire freaking Republic calling her over to a meeting with two of the most prominent figures in Republic City, the way Asami reacted to that. Korra’s eyes went wide.

“No… wait, wait, hold on. She isn’t… She isn’t the CEO of Future Tech, is she?” Korra asked, something indescribable tightening her chest. Mako gave a nod.

“That she is.”

“No way!” Korra exclaimed, then laughed, equally thrilled and bewildered that she’d somehow landed the number of arguably the richest and most influential business head in the world.

Bolin noticed her excitement, and he held his hand up for a high-five.

“Way to go, Korra! _Asami Sato_ asked you out. I’m so proud of you!” Bolin feigned wiping a tear from his cheek, and Korra laughed, high-fiving him. Then something else occurred to Korra, and the excitement melted away.

“But, wait… She’s like, what, 24?-” “23,” Mako corrected. Korra waved him off. “Right, close enough. She’s so young to be a CEO! I mean, I know the tech industry is booming right now, and our generation is taking over, but it takes awhile to build up that kind of influence and wealth, and as far as I can tell-” (Korra glanced out the window at where Future Tech Tower stood tall and proud in the heart of downtown.) “-Future Tech has an abundance of that. Did she start the company when she was, what, 12? It doesn’t make sense.”

Mako and Bolin exchanged another one of those incredulous glances, and Korra got the urge to punch both of them in the face. Mako leaned forward again, staring at her intently.

“Korra, do you not know what happened three years ago?”

Korra stared at Mako blankly. She wasn’t a fan of this pop quiz; it made her feel self-conscious and stupid.

Mako raised his eyebrows.

“Hiroshi Sato? Future Tech? The hacking scandal?” He waved his arms animatedly as he rattled off the list.

The name Hiroshi Sato did sound vaguely familiar, but Korra didn’t recognize the connection with the other things Mako mentioned. She thought about where she was three years ago -- back home after graduation, the buzz of excitement following her commencement slowly buried under piles of snow. Korra remembered weeks on end spent inside, storms blowing harshly outside the window, bored out of her mind, reading biographies of famous politicians that her dad had forced upon her. Korra sighed and looked at the brothers.

“You’re forgetting two very crucial things about me: one, I couldn’t care less about current events and I wouldn’t touch a newspaper with a ten-foot pole, and two, I lived in the South for three years after graduation and for my entire life before high school. _The South_. Remember, the place where there’s so much snow that internet cables literally freeze over, the place that’s so isolated that news from the mainlands arrives two days to _a week_ late because of weather conditions? Cut me some slack here.”

Bolin looked down guiltily and Mako nodded, staring into his coffee cup. After a few moments, he looked back up at Korra.

“Better grab some coffee and something to eat. It’s a bit of a long story.”

***

“To start, Hiroshi Sato is Asami’s father. He started Future Technology about 30 years ago, with a vision that he could change the world. He came from humble beginnings -- just a poor Fire Nation kid with dreams of success. He was a genius, even as a kid, and by the time he’d graduated college, he’d designed revolutionary software, the kind of stuff that changes the tech industry. The kind of stuff that _did_ change the tech industry. He caught the eye of a few of the big tech pioneers, the guys who’d set the whole thing in motion. A few investments later, and Future Tech was born.”

Mako paused to sip his coffee, then went on.

“He did change the world, just as he’d envisioned. You can tell, Korra, you see how pervasive Future Tech is, across the globe, but especially here in Republic City. You see that logo everywhere, the little red gear. Future Tech’s search engine, their email service, the use is nearly universal. That’s all Hiroshi’s doing. He created such streamlined, accessible products and services that no competitors had a chance to keep up. Cabbage Corp went bankrupt five years ago, and Varrick Tech had to branch out into the music and movie industries to stay afloat. He truly changed the face of the industry.”

Korra nodded. It was true. One of the first things Korra noticed about Republic City was how frequently she saw the Future Tech logo. In windows, on bus stops, different Future Tech services advertised on every other billboard. That red half-gear, recognizable no matter where you came from.

“With all this ingenuity and innovation, however, with all this success came vast amounts of power and wealth. And, well…” Mako paused for a second, rubbing his chin and looking thoughtful. He turned back to Korra. “I firmly believe that there are two types of people in this world, Korra. Those who are corrupted by money, and those who are not. Hiroshi had the chance to change the world, to make it better, to put his wealth to good use, to be a philanthropist and help other poor kids rise up and become great, just like he had.”

Mako paused, shook his head ruefully.

“But the power went to his head. He became greedy. He didn’t want to monopolize just the United Republic’s Internet, but the world’s. He wanted to tap into the Fire Nation, the Earth Kingdom, the North and the South to expand his empire across the whole world. All for nothing more than more money and more power.”

“He lost sight of the true potential, the goodness that could come from his influence. I guess the United Republic government noticed too, because all of a sudden, government regulation on business tightened. The President and his cabinet began ordering more oversight -- of all the big businesses, but it was clear Future Tech was the target. They cracked down, hard, and suddenly there was an obstacle in the way of Hiroshi’s plan for world domination.”

“Hiroshi spoke out against it, very vehemently and very publicly. In press conferences, in public statements, he tried to rally support for his “free-market revolution”. He gained a substantial group of supporters, mostly entrepreneurs and other wealthy CEOs, who advocated for taking the government out of business. There was backlash, mostly from politicians and the lower-middle class, but Hiroshi was too powerful. He gained influence, and he almost brought Republic City to the brink of class warfare.”

“But suddenly, and suspiciously, he cooled down. He stopped stirring up arguments, stopped issuing inflammatory statements and appeared in less press conferences. He even issued a statement of apology, saying he was too harsh on the government and that they did have some place in business. Everyone was shocked, from both sides of the argument. And they became even more shocked when suddenly, all those laws and regulations began to be called back, reformed, and repealed. Just like that, the restrictions on Future Tech were loosened.”

“Many suspected foul play, but no one spoke out too much. They were afraid of Hiroshi, afraid of his power. So no one said anything. And then, a few months later, almost out of nowhere, Hiroshi Sato was arrested.”  
  
Korra’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Arrested?”

Mako nodded.

“And, after a lengthy trial, he was convicted and sentenced to life in prison.”

Korra stared at Mako incredulously.

“For… For what?”

“It was revealed that, around the time Hiroshi’s vigor for his “free-market revolution” diminished, he had used his immense power in the worst way possible. He stopped advocating publicly because he didn’t need to anymore. He got what he wanted under the cut. He had gathered a small team of his most elite employees, his brightest minds, and ordered hacking into the private information of the government officials who’d drawn up and passed the legislation that restricted Hiroshi from reaching his influence worldwide.”

“This wasn’t just bank statements and receipts indicating corruption in government, the use of public funds for individual luxury. This was really extreme, really private stuff. Stuff that, if it got out, had the potential to ruin political careers. Proof of extramarital affairs, drug use, homosexuality of legislators who were posing as straight for the sake of their careers. Then, he called a secret meeting with all these officials, made it very clear what he’d done, and told them to lift the regulations. If they revealed what he’d done, Hiroshi threatened to release all the information he’d hacked and ruin their careers, and by extension, their lives.”

Korra furrowed her eyebrows.

“He blackmailed them?”

Mako nodded solemnly.

“So they lifted the restrictions. But a few of them bravely took initiative, wanted to stand up to his unlawful action. Somehow they were able to band together, garner enough proof to get him arrested. But he took them down with him, without even doing any extra work. In order to prove to the police that Hiroshi had indeed hacked them, the officials had to make public the private stuff Hiroshi had uncovered. Careers were ruined, otherwise efficient and loyal civil servants were thrown into disrepute and disgrace. Hiroshi ruined their lives. And sure, what was revealed about those officials wasn’t flattering. But we all have our own secrets, our own demons. And we all have the right to keep those secrets secret. Hiroshi infringed upon that right in the worst possible way.”

Mako looked angry now, and Korra imagined how horrified he must have been, as a man of the law. Korra imagined how horrified the entire city must have been, and then she remembered Asami, and a sharp pain stabbed in her chest.

“Oh,” Korra breathed out. “Asami…” Korra looked down, hardly able to imagine the pain and betrayal. Mako nodded.

“She was devastated, as you could imagine. Blindsided, her father in jail, and suddenly, the media was bombarding her with questions about the future of the company. She was 19. 19! Just a kid, and she was thrown into this shit storm of politics and business, completely alone.”

Korra furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.

“What about her mother? Couldn’t she have done something? Or was she in on Hiroshi’s plotting too?”

This time it was Bolin who cut in, with a muttered response, his eyes cast down.

“Her mother died when Asami was just 6. Breast cancer.”

That pain stabbed in Korra’s chest again, sharper and more acute. She felt a lump in her throat. They were all silent for a long time. Finally, Mako went on, his voice quiet.

“She could have let the company fall into irrelevance. Her father had disgraced it, and the company lost nearly every partnership it had gained over the course of 30 years. No one wanted to come near to Future Tech, no one wanted to be associated with the corruption and greed of Hiroshi Sato. She could’ve sold off what remained of the company’s assets to Varrick Tech, and no one would have blamed her. She was just a kid.”

Korra looked out the window at the Future Tech Tower again. A flame of defiance and pride bloomed in her chest, and she didn’t quite know why.

“But she didn’t, did she?” Korra murmured in realization, the pieces coming together in her mind.

For the first time since starting his tale, Mako smiled.

“No. No, she didn’t. Instead, she decided to carry on. She took the hard path. She decided to take control of the company, restore its legacy and influence. For three years, she’s worked non-stop to restore the honor of the Sato family name. And she’s succeeded, obviously. Against all odds, she succeeded. She went to press conferences, hired new staff, invented new products, supported charities and other grassroots foundations, and created a new vision for the company. One that Hiroshi should have stuck to. A vision of changing the world for the better. She’s that second kind of person I mentioned, Korra. And she did it all before she was 23.”

Korra stared into her coffee cup, the drink having gone cold, neglected halfway through Mako’s story. She felt a mixture of sadness and pride, anger and elation. The first thing she could think to say was,

“Well, that explains why she called President Raiko, Lin Beifong, and Varrick ‘goons’.”

Mako and Bolin both laughed.

“She’s powerful enough to get away with it,” Mako said with a smile.

Korra nodded, but still felt inexplicably conflicted.

“I… Wow, I mean, _wow_.” Eloquence had escaped her for the moment. Asami was a CEO, a powerful CEO, she was 23, and she’d given Korra her number. That was all Korra could manage to think.

They were all silent for awhile, Korra staring into her empty cereal bowl and thinking hard, processing. A lot of things made more sense now; Asami’s sadness and hesitation at the gala. It surely explained why Asami had seemed to expect Korra to recognize her when they first met. And, once Asami realized Korra didn’t know who she was, maybe she wanted to keep it that way, in fear of Korra judging Asami based on her father’s actions once she found out. Korra was sure Asami had probably experienced that plenty since his arrest.

“So, congratulations, Korra. You just landed the number of the most eligible bachelorette in the city,” Mako teased, smiling as he sipped his coffee.

“Yeah, so when are you gonna call her?” Bolin asked excitedly.

Korra’s heart leapt in her chest. _Call her_? Sure, she had gotten Asami’s number, but it hadn’t even crossed Korra’s mind that she’d actually have to _call her_. Now, especially, knowing the truth, Korra couldn’t even fathom how she’d manage it.

“Uh, um, I… Should I even bother? I mean, I’m sure she’s like, super busy with… Business things… I wouldn’t want to bother her, I-”

Both Mako and Bolin were staring at her. Korra stopped talking, mouth hanging open.

“Are you kidding me, Korra?” Bolin exclaimed. “You said she was flirting with you! This is Asami Sato we’re talking about! I have a girlfriend, and I love her, but I can say with absolute certainty that Asami is, like, one of the most beautiful people I’ve ever seen. And she’s a genius! Rich! Head of the most influential company in Republic City, the world even! You can’t not call her, Korra. Come _on_.”

Mako took another sip of his coffee, looked at Korra.

“Bo’s right,” he said simply, hiding his smile behind his mug.

  
Korra felt butterflies in her stomach. Korra was intimidated, she wasn’t going to lie to herself. The prospect of calling the CEO of Future Tech was daunting. But Korra thought of how easy, how natural it felt to be with Asami at the gala, how funny and flirtatious she’d been, how badly Korra wanted to spend the rest of the night with her. Nothing had changed, Korra realized. Asami’s life story had been revealed to her but Asami herself hadn’t changed. Knowing her backstory didn’t change the fact that Korra would do anything to see her again.

Korra took a deep breath.

“I, uh, yeah. You’re right. When should I call? I mean, like, what’s the appropriate amount of time to wait?”

Korra blushed, feeling awkward about her own question. Bolin thought for a moment.

“You don’t want to seem too eager, but you don’t want her to think you’re not interested, either. So… tomorrow. Late afternoon.”

Korra looked at Mako for a second opinion. He just nodded. Korra took a deep breath, wondering how the hell she’d muster up enough courage to call, and what she’d even say once she did. Most of all, she wondered what she was getting herself into.

***

Ring. Ring, ring. Ring, ring, ring. The sound echoed in Korra’s ear, and Korra felt her heart pounding in her chest with each subsequent ring. She was sitting in her room, calling Asami. Actually, calling Asami. Korra’s mouth went dry, and in a panic she hung up and threw her phone onto her bed.

Korra held her head in her hands, and groaned.

_Come on, Korra, stop being such a coward_. Korra urged herself, but she felt like she was about to vomit.

“Come on, Korra. You got this. A pretty girl gave you her number, and you are going to call her back! CEO or not, you got this. Come on.” Korra gave herself a pep talk, staring at her reflection. She slapped her cheek lightly, made a determined face, flexed her biceps for confidence, rushed to where her phone lay dejectedly on her bed, picked it up, and dialed again.

Eight rings, Korra’s heart pounding in her chest, her throat tightening. Then, a voice. Korra’s mouth went dry, but she quickly realized it was a recording.

_This is Asami, I’m not available to answer the phone right now, but please leave your name and number, and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. Thanks!_

__

Beep.

_Oh shit._

“Uh, hey, Asami. This is Korra, um, from the gala. I had a really cool time with you-” ( _Cool?!_ Korra winced at herself) “-and I was just, um, calling to see if you wanted to hang out sometime? Unless you weren’t serious about the whole showing me around the city thing, in which case, please ignore this. But if you were serious, uh, I’d really like to see you again. That’s all. Call me back, I guess. Bye.”

Korra took a deep, shuddering breath. There. She did it. She called Asami. She smiled shakily to her reflection, then walked back out to the living room.

Bolin was lounging on the couch, watching TV and texting Opal, Korra guessed. Korra plopped down next to him.

“I called her.” Korra said as nonchalantly as she could manage, and Bolin looked up from his phone with a grin.

“And?” He prompted. Korra waved her hand.

“She didn’t answer. It’s still earlyish, she’s probably still working. But I left a message.”

Bolin clapped her on the back, his grin widening.

“When you two get married, can you buy us a new apartment?” Bolin teased. Korra smacked him in the face with a pillow, but they both laughed.

***

They were in the middle of dinner (some mess of noodles and vegetables that Bolin had attempted to prepare) when Korra’s phone rang.

Everyone froze: Korra, Mako, and Bolin, who stopped mid-bite, a piece of broccoli falling out of his chopsticks onto his plate. Everyone exchanged glances, dead silent, while Korra’s ringtone continued to go off. Then Bolin leapt up and screeched,

“Is it her?!”

The whole table exploded into chaos then, Mako leaning forward expectantly, Bolin jumping up and down, and Korra nearly knocking over her water glass in her haste to pull her phone from her pocket.

_Asami_ flashed across the screen, and Korra gulped, looked up at the brothers, nodded.

“Answer it!” Mako shouted, and Korra sprinted out of the dining room to her bedroom, Bolin cheering behind her.

Once in the quiet privacy of her room, Korra took a deep breath, tried not to think too much, and answered.

“Hello?” She was shocked at how calm she sounded, considering how hard her heart was pounding.

“Hey, Korra,”

Even over the phone, Asami’s voice retained that crystalline timbre that made Korra’s knees weak, and Korra could somehow hear her smile in the tone of her voice. Korra couldn’t help but smile herself.

“Hey, Asami.”

“Sorry I didn’t get back to you sooner, I had the most ridiculously busy day.”

Asami hesitated, and Korra wondered if she should tell her she knew her true position. But Korra decided to wait.

“Oh, no, no problem.”

“I’m really glad you called, Korra. I was sorta worried you wouldn’t,” Asami sounded somewhat shy, and Korra’s heart leapt in her chest guiltily. Korra laughed nervously.

“Of course I called. I would’ve called sooner, but I didn’t want to seem too…” Korra trailed off, wincing. She wasn’t supposed to be saying this. But Asami laughed, and finished her sentence for her.   
  
“Eager? Don’t worry, I understand. A girl’s gotta seem aloof. I get it.”

Korra laughed.

“Yeah. Right. Aloof.”

They were awkwardly silent for a few moments, Korra clearing her throat as she did when she was uncomfortable. Finally, Asami spoke.

“Your message was adorable, by the way. Of course I was serious about showing you around the city! I don’t joke about these things, Korra.”

Asami feigned a serious tone at the end, and Korra laughed, blushing.

“I just… I wanted to make sure.”

“I know. It’s okay. Anyways, I checked the schedule, and the next Fire Ferrets home game is in a week or so, but maybe we could start smaller. How do you feel about coffee?”

“Very strongly. I don’t think I could live without it, for better or worse.”

Asami laughed, and the sound was just as beautiful as Korra remembered it.

“I know how you feel. Anyways, there’s this excellent little place by Central City Station that makes all their own blends, as well as some of the most insane pastries. They have this muffin with an egg cooked _inside_ of it. It’s pretty wild. I think you’d like it.”

Korra grinned on instinct at Asami’s enthusiasm.

“That sounds perfect.”

“Great! How’s tomorrow?”

Korra froze. That was… soon. But Asami’s eagerness was undeniable, and Korra realized she couldn’t keep herself away if she had the opportunity.

“Yeah, sounds good! I get off work at 3, does that work for you?”

“Sure! I have a lot of… flexibility in my schedule, so any time works for me.”

_Flexibility? More like “I’m a powerful CEO and can do whatever the hell I want”_ , Korra thought amusedly.

“Okay, great. I’ll ride my bike straight from work. It’s by Central City Station you said?”

“Yeah, it’s called Craftsmen and Wolfbats. On 18th and Pearl.”

“Cool, I can probably be there by…” Korra did a quick calculation in her head. “3:20? Does that work?”

“That’s perfect,” Asami replied. Korra smiled, and there was a pause, less awkward this time. “Now, I’ve got to go, but I’ll see you tomorrow, Korra.” Asami’s tone was quiet and slightly flirtatious, and Korra felt her cheeks getting warm.

“Yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Bye, Korra.”

“Bye, Asami.”

Korra stood stiffly, slowly sliding her phone back into her pocket. She walked back to the living room in a daze, where Mako and Bolin were waiting expectantly. They stared at her intently, and Korra paused, half unable to say anything and half for dramatic effect. Then, slowly, she raised a fist in the air like John Bender from the Breakfast Club, and Mako and Bolin leapt up, cheering and clapping her on the back. Korra grinned, feeling like she’d just won a million yuans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you hadn’t picked this up already, Future Tech is basically Google -- that’s what I based it off of. 
> 
> I really hope this chapter wasn’t too boring, especially the beginning. I fought for a long time with Hiroshi’s/Asami’s backstory, wanting it to make more sense for a modern setting. I’m really pleased with the direction I chose to go -- it seems tangible and a potentially realistic possibility in our society.
> 
> As always, comments welcome and appreciated!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (First date fluffiness.)

Korra woke with a pleasant anxiety buzzing in the pit of her stomach, and the feeling stuck with her the entire day. She almost got run over on her way to work, and she had to rearrange the window display three times because she was so distracted by the prospect of meeting up with Asami in a manner of hours.

During her lunch break, without the luxury of work to keep her mind somewhat occupied, Korra began getting restless, and wrestled with an idea in her head, one she’d been tempted to act on since Asami had called her back the night before. Finally, after fighting back and forth between _that’s creepy and I can find out whatever I want to know about her by asking in person_ and _what’s the harm in doing a little research?_ in her head, Korra couldn’t take it anymore: she did an Internet search of Asami’s name.

Most of what came up was pretty standard, what Korra would expect for a CEO: articles in business journals about Future Tech’s prospects, a Republic City Times piece on “How Asami Sato Changed the Face of Modern Technology”, a short video clip of Asami on a big stage at some conference explaining to an audience of middle-aged, balding heads of business her latest new software update. Pretty standard, for a CEO -- but it was still all very surreal to Korra; she’d be getting coffee with that same woman in the news articles and the press conference videos in a few short hours.

Korra’s curiosity only grew as she scrolled through the search results, and three things really stood out to her.

First, an article about Future Tech’s generous contributions to local charities and schools. The article featured Future Tech’s donations to a foundation for families of soldiers killed in action; it wasn’t the article itself that caught Korra’s eye, but the picture at the top of it: a fairly recent photograph of Asami kneeling before a young child, holding out a stuffed polar bear dog to her, while an assistant presented the child’s tearfully joyful mother with a check for 30,000 yuans. It was the gentle smile on Asami’s face, the kindness in her eyes, the look of excitement on the little kid’s face, and the tears of joy on the mother’s that, along with Korra’s newfound knowledge of Asami’s family history, made Korra’s heart ache with some mixture of sadness and awe.

The second was from a trashy celebrity gossip site, a paparazzi photo from a year or so ago so out of focus that it was hard to tell it was even Asami in the photo at first, but upon closer examination, the raven hair and dark red lips were unmistakable. (Korra, from her research, had come to the conclusion that look was somewhat of a trademark for Asami.) In the photo, Asami was walking towards a limo, pulling an incredibly attractive, tan skinned-Earth Kingdom girl behind her by hand, fingers tightly intertwined, and the caption read “Future Tech CEO Asami Sato and runway model Ari Wang seen leaving the exclusive Neon Lotus club together -- just Gal Pals, or something more?” It made Korra snort and shake her head, but she also smiled to herself -- it only confirmed what she’d already guessed at by Asami’s obvious flirtatiousness at the gala, and Korra was confident that their coffee date was, in fact, just that: a date.

The third was a video, and it struck Korra the most of everything she found. She stumbled across it, a recommended video that came up after one of the interviews Korra watched. It was from three years ago, entitled “Asami Sato, sole heir to Future Tech Co., speaks about company’s future in wake of Hiroshi Sato’s jail sentence”, and Korra realized it was her first press conference after her father’s arrest. As the video played, Korra was struck by how young Asami looked -- young, and scared, but there was also an air of defiance around her, an air of inexplicable strength that kept her chin up and her shoulders squared. She fielded question after question like a pro, without so much as a single tear or waver in her voice, and if Korra didn’t know better she wouldn’t have guessed she was only nineteen then.

At one point, towards the end of the video, a reporter asked Asami about the company’s future, and Korra saw a fire blaze in Asami’s green eyes, even through the low resolution video. She was silent for a moment, and then she spoke, calmly:

_“What my father did was horribly wrong, and I don’t blame the partners and investors that withdrew their ties to the company. If I was in their place, I would have done the same. I don’t blame anyone who despises the Sato name right now, because I myself am ashamed to share this surname with my father. He disgraced our family, disgraced our company, and disgraced the tech industry as a whole. I can’t apologize on his behalf, that’s beyond my power, but what I can do is promise something to the citizens of Republic City -- I saw my father take a turn down a dark path, I know what that looks like, and I swear to you all, it will never happen again. I may seem young, and inexperienced, and I am, I’ll concede that -- but I am also intelligent, and capable, and I am going to dedicate my life to restore the image that my father set out to create when he was my age. I will restore this company to its former glory, and I am going to use that power to create good in the world. I acknowledge that nothing I can do now can restore the careers that my father ruined, and that is one of my biggest regrets, but I promise, I am not my father. I will lead this company to greater heights, far higher than my father ever reached. The citizens of Republic City and the citizens of the world can count on that.”_

__

At that point Asami left the podium to a chorus of camera flashes and applause. The camera filming zoomed in on Asami’s face as she left the conference room, and Korra caught the gleam of tears in Asami’s eyes before she disappeared into a doorway and the video ended. It was the only indication of Asami’s resolve cracking, and a minute one at that.

Korra was in awe of Asami, in awe of her strength and determination and intelligence and capacity for genuine kindness, gleaned from just a few articles and videos. The professional, business-like, almost cold Asami from the press conference videos was so different from the casual, flirtatious, teasing Asami she’d met at the gala, and Korra couldn’t even guess at the depth of what was unknown to her about this woman.

Korra came to the conclusion, quite comfortably, that she was looking forward to finding it all out.

***

Korra left work the minute she was off the clock; she had brought a change of clothes in her messenger bag (she was somewhat dismayed to realize her wardrobe consisted almost solely of t-shirts and tattered jeans, and everything else she had was not bike-suitable, but Korra had a feeling Asami wouldn’t really mind what she was wearing), and swapped her work uniform for a gray and white striped v-neck and jeans before unlocking her bike and pedaling as fast as she could down the streets of Republic City.

Korra had only been down around Central City Station a few times; the surrounding neighborhood was quite affluent, consisting mostly of savvy young tech professionals with expensive haircuts and impeccable style, and Korra always felt a little too scruffy for the area. She did enjoy the people-watching, though -- the pretty girls with undercuts and tattoos and the boys with dark-framed glasses and wispy moustaches perusing shop windows, drinking expensive juices and discussing cultural movements that Korra couldn’t hope to understand -- it was just another surreal and exciting part of city life that she couldn’t have even dreamed of experiencing back home.

Now, as Korra rode along Pearl street, passing trendy thrift shops and cleverly-named cafes, with the balmy summer breeze gently pushing her hair back, she felt calm, the excited anxiety that had followed her all day disappearing into the wind. It was a beautiful day, and all the pedestrians she passed seemed perfectly content -- it put Korra completely at ease.

Korra slowed down and dismounted when she reached 18th, electing to roll her bike along the sidewalk so she could find the cafe. She finally found it in the middle of the block, identified by a wooden blue sign hanging above the doorway, sporting an aesthetically pleasing logo and font; it was just a thin building with minimal outdoor seating, but Korra could tell the inside was packed -- it was clearly a popular place. Korra peeked inside, but it was impossible to tell if Asami was in there or not, so she went to go about locking up her bike amongst the many others chained to the bike rack outside when she spotted her.

Maybe twenty feet away, there was Asami. She looked incredibly different than she did at the gala, but again her trademark dark locks and red lips gave her away; her ruby red dress was swapped for a simple white tank top and maroon pants, heels traded for black combat boots and expensive gold bracelets exchanged for an equally expensive looking silver watch. She was sporting stylish vintage sunglasses, looking down at her phone, and leaning against a parked red Ferrari that wore the license plate “SATO 2”.

It took Korra a moment to process the sight in front of her; Asami’s casual pose and appearance was an odd juxtaposition with the ostentatious car, and, wait, did she actually own a _Ferrari_? Korra chuckled to herself. Of course she did. And of course she was so casual about it all. Korra had to stop herself from swooning; the sight as a whole was, over all, unbelievably attractive. She took a deep breath as she wheeled her bike towards Asami.

Korra was about to say something when Asami happened to look up and notice her. Asami broke into a smile, and pushed her sunglasses up onto her forehead.

“Hey there, stranger,” she greeted, that teasing lilt in her voice that instantly made Korra blush.

“Hey,” Korra returned, trying to seem casual while Asami very clearly looked her up and down appreciatively.

“I always think it’s funny meeting people in fancy settings -- you don’t know what their day-to-day style is. Someone could be wearing a 1000 yuan suit at a party, but you meet them on a Tuesday afternoon and they’re in sweatpants and sandals with socks. You never know what to expect, ” Asami mused, and Korra grinned.

“Well, I hope I’m living up to your expectations.” Korra returned. Asami smiled coyly.

“You’ve exceeded them, don’t worry.”

“I don’t know if I should be flattered or insulted at that,” Korra replied, feigning thoughtfulness, and Asami laughed her musical laugh.

“It’s a compliment,” she assured, then turned her gaze to Korra’s bike. “Oh, is this that sweet road bike you told me about?” She asked excitedly, running her hand over the seat and frame. Korra nodded.

“Wow, this is super nice! You fit right in around here,” Asami joked, gesturing towards the bike rack full of stylish road bikes and sleek fixies.

“Yeah, this is like, my one nice thing,” Korra joked, laughing. “Everything else I own is cheap trash.”

Asami laughed hard at that, and Korra grinned widely. It was a specific type of happiness, that lightness she felt when she made Asami laugh. She got it while dancing at the gala, and it returned now.

“Well, you made a good choice,” Asami said, gripping one of the leathern handlebars. “You know, I’ve been really wanting to get a bike for myself. They’re so good for you, y’know, you get so much exercise and they’re great for the environment… Unfortunately, I just love cars too much to let go.” Asami laughed at herself, and Korra smiled, raising her eyebrows.

“Yeah, sweet wheels, by the way,” Korra gestured at the Ferrari behind Asami. She smiled, patted the hood affectionately.

“Yeah, this is my baby. Custom-made, F140 engine, hits up to 217 miles per hour. Just beautiful! I don’t think I could part with ‘er even if you forced me.”

Korra grinned. Asami Sato, elegant and classy Future Tech CEO, was also a total car nerd. It just kept getting better.

Asami gazed fondly at her car for a few more moments before turning back to Korra.

“Well, shall we?” she asked, gesturing back towards the cafe.

“Let’s do it!”

Korra quickly locked up her bike, fitting it strategically into the crowded rack, and followed Asami inside.

***

The inside was clean and simple, yet stylish. There were long black tables with stools peppered on either side, where patrons sat elbow to elbow with their companions and strangers alike, as well as a long bar counter of the same black wood along the other wall, with tall bar stools where couples sat close together. That reminded Korra of the bar at the gala with Asami, and she smiled to herself.

They lined up to order, and Korra stared into the long glass case full of pastries. It was full of elegantly frosted cakes, cookies, and quirky baked goods Korra had never heard of before: matcha snickerdoodles, kumquat poppy muffins, green curry scones… it was all very bizarre and slightly pretentious, and Korra wanted to laugh out loud at how perfectly the place fit in with the rest of the neighborhood.

“What looks good?” Asami leaned in to ask her. Korra laughed, blushing a bit.

“I honestly haven’t even heard of most of this stuff before,” she admitted, and Asami smiled kindly.

“How about I order a couple things for the both of us? I come here all the time, I know what’s good. We can share.”

Korra nodded.

“That sounds perfect, yeah.”

As they got to the front of the line, the cashier, a handsome green-eyed young guy with tastefully messy dark hair grinned widely at Asami.

“Asami! Hey!”

Asami smiled back.

“Hey, Wing! Good to see you,” she replied.

“You too! It’s been awhile.”

“Certainly has. It’s always been your brother working here the last few times I’ve been. How is Wei?”

Wing laughed, rubbing the back of his head.

“Oh, you know Wei. He took a few weeks off and went all the way to Ba Sing Se and back without telling anyone. Something about a guy, I don’t know. Dude’s crazy. Who’s this?”

Wing gestured to Korra, smiling wryly, apparently picking up on the situation.

“Oh, I’m so sorry -- this is Korra. Korra, this is Wing Beifong.”

Korra’s eyes widened as they shook hands, suddenly recognizing the familiarity in his features.

“You’re Opal’s brother!” Korra exclaimed, and Wing smiled.

“Sure am! How do you know my big sis?”

“I’m best friends and roommates with her boyfriend,” Korra explained.

“Bolin!” Wing exclaimed excitedly. “I love that dude. How is he?”

Korra shrugged.   
  
“He’s good, you know, he’s just…”

“Bolin?” Wing finished her sentence, and Korra nodded, laughing. “Yeah, I get it. Well, what a cool coincidence! Now what can I get you lovely ladies?”

Asami ordered them cappuccinos, a matcha snickerdoodle, and something called “The Rebel”, which Korra hadn’t seen in the display, but she didn’t question it. Korra reached into her pocket for cash, but Asami stopped her with a gentle hand on her arm.

“Oh, no you don’t. I got this one.”

Korra protested weakly just out of politeness, but Asami persisted in paying for the both of them. Korra was secretly grateful, and didn’t feel too bad; the place wasn’t exactly cheap, and Asami wasn’t exactly poor.

“Nice to see you as always, Asami, and nice to meet you, Korra. Have a good one, you two.” Wing winked at them, and Korra smiled and returned the pleasantries. She and Asami made their way to two stools opposite each other at one of the long black tables, close to the wall, and sat.

“I forgot you said you knew Opal,” Asami commented with a small, somewhat forced smile. Korra was pretty sure that was a lie, but she nodded anyways.

“Yeah, that’s really funny! I remembered her mentioning twin brothers opening a cafe together, but this is really a coincidence.”

Asami nodded, smiling.

“Yeah, I love those guys. And this place is just phenomenal, they’ve done a great job.”

Korra had the urge to delve further into Asami’s connection to the Beifongs, but she held it back; that could wait until after she told Asami she knew about her job. Which, Korra realized, she should probably do pretty soon…

Another waiter, a tall, skinny guy with dark framed glasses, dyed blonde hair, and an apathetic look on his face brought them their order, the cappuccinos in pretty blue ceramic mugs and the baked goods on matching plates.

Asami thanked him, then looked at Korra excitedly.

“This is what I was telling you about, Korra. Check this out.”

Asami cut into the muffin that sat before them with a knife, and Korra was surprised to see an egg’s runny yolk leak out the center.

“Quick, try it!” Asami urged gleefully, and Korra complied, shoving as much of her half into her mouth as she could before realizing that she wasn’t at home with Mako and Bolin, she was on a date with an incredibly attractive CEO at an extremely high-end cafe, and would it kill her to be a little more elegant?

But Asami just laughed at Korra trying to chew the massive bite in her mouth, and all her anxieties were instantly put to rest. Korra noticed Asami had a way of doing that to her.

“Wow,” Korra commented, once she’d chewed down enough of the muffin to speak. “That’s -- that’s something else, man.”

“Isn’t it?” Asami agreed, excitedly. “It’s like, one of my favorite things in the world. It’s genius! Who could have thought that would work? A poached egg, _inside_ a muffin. It’s insane! And pure genius!”

Korra laughed at Asami’s continued excitement over this ingenious pastry as she took a bite of her own half, in a much classier manner than Korra had managed.

They sipped their coffees and split the matcha snickerdoodle, both of which were amazing, and talked about the food and their favorite restaurants in the city. Korra told Asami all about Southern cuisine, which was one thing Republic City was lacking a lot of (there were a few places, but nothing beat mom’s cooking), and Korra relished the admiring, interested gaze Asami trained on her as she talked about home.

Korra was finishing off her coffee at a break in the conversation when she noticed Asami frowning at her phone, then tapping away at the screen for about half a minute. She put her phone down with a sigh, then looked up at Korra with an apologetic smile.

“Sorry about that. It’s been a hectic few days.”

Korra waved her off.

“No worries. I imagine running a company can get pretty busy.”

It sort of slipped out, and Korra smiled uncomfortably at Asami’s startled expression. Asami’s eyes snapped up to meet hers, and her face fell a bit, a storm of emotions passing through her green eyes; some mixture of guilt, relief, and sadness. Asami sighed, ran a hand through her hair.

“I, uh, my friends kinda filled me in.” Korra muttered, clearing her throat uncomfortably and avoiding Asami’s eyes.

“Korra, I’m so sorry I didn’t say anything at the gala, I really am--”

Korra shook her head.

“No, Asami, don’t be sorry, it’s totally fine, it’s--”

“It’s not really fine, Korra, I kind of lied to you, and that’s no way to start any kind of relationship. But I’m so used to being recognized, you know? Ever since… well, ever since I took over the company, everywhere I go people know who I am. I can’t hide, no matter how hard I try. The kind of transparency my position requires has some undesirable side effects. People I’ve never met know stuff about my personal life, and because of the particular… history of my company, well, basically everyone knows about my family issues. It sucks sometimes, Korra, it truly does.”

Korra nodded, gave Asami a sympathetic look. She continued.

“So, when I realized you didn’t know who I was at the gala… I was suddenly anonymous, you know? Suddenly, I wasn’t Asami Sato, CEO of Future Tech -- I was just Asami to you, just someone you met at a party. And that anonymity, that was like a drug, it was addicting. For once, I was just a normal young adult living it up at some fancy gala without a care in the world. That’s something I don’t ever get to experience, and I know I should’ve told you, but with you, I was in this alternate universe, and, well… I just wanted to stay there forever, you know?”

Asami’s voice grew quiet and she cast her eyes downward, and Korra felt a soft hand find hers across the table. Korra squeezed her hand gently.

“I understand completely, Asami, trust me. I totally understand. Don’t be sorry, please. I know there’s gotta be a ton of pressure on you all the time, I can’t blame you for wanting to feel normal. No one should.”

Korra did understand. She remembered how she felt at the gala, how good anonymity felt, how liberating it was to be away from the pressures of family and career. Korra understood completely.

Asami smiled sadly, gratefully, meeting Korra’s eyes. Her eyebrows furrowed a bit, and her green gaze pierced Korra scrutinizingly.

“But I was wondering, if you didn’t recognize me, why did you seem like you did, at first?”

Korra quirked an eyebrow, confused.

“What do you mean?”

Asami blushed a bit.

“I don’t know, I mean, when I first came up to you… You looked kinda, I don’t know -- dumbstruck?”

Korra thought a moment, then laughed embarrassedly, and blushed.

“That might’ve had something to do with the fact you looked, uh, incredibly attractive,” Korra mumbled, feeling the heat in her cheeks. Asami laughed, that beautiful sound ringing in Korra’s ears, and she couldn’t help but grin down at her empty coffee cup.

“You’re sweet,” Asami said, genuinely, then leaned in a bit across the table. “And for the record, you did too.”

Asami winked, and Korra felt a bit like fainting.

***

They wandered up and down Pearl Street for a few blocks, perusing thrift shops and bookstores and examining menus of trendy, expensive restaurants, just for fun. They got lost in a record store for quite some time, and Korra learned Asami had impeccable taste in music. She told Korra she collected vinyl, a tradition she inherited from her father. Asami got extremely excited over an old Stone Roses album she found in a sale box, dusty and faded, and Korra happily bought it for her, partly to pay her back for the coffee, but mostly because the look Asami got on her face when she found it was too adorable to resist.

They chatted and bantered and joked the whole time, and it was so easy, easier than anything had ever been to Korra. This was just the second time she’d interacted with this woman, and they’d already slipped into this rhythm, perfectly in sync, and it blew Korra’s mind at how anything could be as perfect as this first date.

They were both laughing at who knows what when they arrived back in front of the cafe where they’d parked their respective vehicles. The sun was just starting to set, and a golden glow filled the sky, lighting Asami’s eyes in a way that made them even more beautiful than they already were (Korra didn’t think that was even possible, but the sight in front of her confirmed that indeed, it was). They both fell into a comfortable silence, staring into each other’s eyes and smiling and Korra felt so warm inside.

Asami broke the reverent silence with a happy sigh.

“Well, Korra from the South, you’re already more of a city girl than I expected.”

Asami cocked an eyebrow playfully, looking impressed, and Korra laughed lightly, shrugged.

“It wasn’t hard to get used to it all. And hey, just ‘cause I haven’t seen a few landmarks doesn’t mean I’m a total newbie. You gotta admit, I’ve got some cred.”

Korra flexed her bicep for effect, and Asami laughed.

“True, I can’t deny that. But, that doesn’t mean you’re off the hook yet. Next Saturday night, Fire Ferrets versus the Eel Hounds, Future Tech Arena, we’re going. No questions asked.”

Korra laughed, somewhat alarmed at Asami’s directness, but she grinned.

“Hey, I’ve got no problem with that plan,” Korra said with her palms raised. “I just regret it’s not a little sooner.” She felt herself smiling shyly.

Asami smiled that kind, genuine smile again.

“Aww, is someone gonna miss me?” She teased, and Korra elbowed her lightly.

“No, I just really love basketball, okay?” Korra mumbled, mock-begrudgingly, and then grinned when Asami burst out laughing.

“Right, sure you do. Either way, the Fire Ferrets will _make_ you love basketball.” Asami said determinedly, and Korra raised her eyebrows.

“You’ve certainly got a lot of confidence in them,” she commented.

“Well, we’re their number one sponsor, and we built them that arena, so I kind of have to be.” Asami winked, and Korra knew “we” meant Future Tech; she’d seen the half gear logo across the chests of Fire Ferrets jerseys in store windows and on fans walking around Republic City.

“Putting your mouth where your money is, then?” Korra asked with a quirked eyebrow and a sly smile, and Asami chuckled, looking at Korra with a gaze that was simultaneously admiring and scrutinizing.

“Clever,” Asami commented, and Korra just grinned.

Suddenly, Asami’s phone went off, and she read what was on the screen for a few seconds before a look of annoyance flashed across her face.

“Oh Spirits,” Asami groaned, jamming her phone back into her pocket. “These goddamn interns, I swear, one of these days I’m just gonna lose it and fire them all…” She mumbled, then turned her attention back to Korra with an apologetic smile. Asami opened her mouth to speak, but Korra cut her off.

“It’s okay, Asami. I should be getting home soon too, I’m responsible for dinner tonight and I’m sure if I wait any longer I’ll have two cranky roommates to answer to.”

Asami smiled gratefully, briefly touching Korra’s arm.

“Alright. Well…” Asami trailed off, awkward for the first time tonight, but Korra picked up the slack.

“Thank you, that was totally awesome. The food, the coffee and the whole… date.” Korra winced, a part of her still uncertain, but Asami just smiled. Korra continued, reassured. “I had a really great time, Asami.”

“Me too, Korra,” Asami said softly, reaching forward to grip Korra’s hand gently. “It was my pleasure, and thanks for the vinyl!” Asami lifted the thin paper bag she held in her other hand for emphasis. Korra waved it off, smiling.

“No problem. You gotta let me know how it sounds.”

“Will do,” Asami said with a smile. She dropped Korra’s hand, took a step back.

“So… Saturday?” Korra asked, shyly. Asami nodded.

“Saturday.” She confirmed. “I’ll text you the details later in the week. Have a good one, Korra.”

“You too! I hope the thing with the interns gets sorted out,” Korra gestured animatedly, feeling a bit flustered. Asami smiled gratefully.

“Thanks, me too.” She took a step towards her car. “Bye, Korra.”

“See you later, Asami.”

They parted with one last smile, and Korra stood on the curb, watched as Asami got into her Ferrari, start the car, and pull out of the parking space. Korra didn’t budge until she’d watched Asami’s car speed out of sight, the sound of her engine roaring echoing in Korra’s ears.

 

***

Korra ended up ordering her and the boys Narook’s (talking about it with Asami had made her crave some classic Southern seaweed noodles, even if they didn’t come close to her mother’s version), and stumbled through the door balancing bags and containers of noodles precariously in her arms as she tried to shimmy the door open with her bike leaning against her leg. After finally managing her way through and dumping her load of takeout on the counter, she looked up to find, to her surprise, Opal sitting on their couch, watching TV.

“Hey, Korra,” She called, casually.

“Opal! Hey, what are you doing here? Where’s Bo and Mako?” Korra crossed over to join Opal on the couch.

“Bo invited me for dinner. He and Mako are out restocking on booze. I decided to hang out here, I wasn’t really in the mood to watch those two fight over beers.”

Korra chuckled, knowing the feeling. The brothers’ differing alcohol tastes were often a source of strife in the household.

Opal finished typing a text message, then dropped her phone in her lap and turned to Korra with a cocked eyebrow and piqued interest.

“Sooo… How’d it go?! Bolin told me the big news. Asami Sato! Nice going, Korra.”

Korra shook her head, laughing, but blushed.

“Spirits, he acts like we’re getting married!” They laughed. “But, uh, it was…” Korra felt herself burning bright red, and buried her face in her hands, groaning and laughing simultaneously. “I’m so screwed, Opal. She’s _unreal_. We’ve only hung out twice, including the night we met, but, oh Spirits! She’s amazing!”

Opal was grinning at her, eyes bright.

“Aww, Korra!” She exclaimed. Korra smiled sheepishly, blushing again. She suddenly remembered the cafe, and turned to Opal excitedly.

“Oh, hey, funny coincidence -- I met one of your brothers today! Wing, I think it was.”

Opal raised her eyebrows.

“She took you to Craftsman? Of course,” Opal chuckled. “And even I have trouble telling them apart sometimes, don’t worry.”

Korra was intrigued by the first part of Opal’s response, but pushed it aside for the moment, laughing.

“No, Wei -- it’s Wei, right?” (Opal nodded.) “Yeah, he wasn’t there. But it was awesome to meet Wing! He seemed super cool.”

Opal nodded, smiling.

“Yeah, my little brothers got something good going for them with that cafe. With Wei’s culinary genius and Wing’s management and networking skills, that place is gonna stick around for sure.”

Korra nodded.

“Yeah, it was awesome,”

Korra bit her lip then, biting back her curiosity until she couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“Hey, Opal, if you don’t mind me asking… I mean, Asami said she went to school with you, and you talk like you… I don’t know, know her pretty well, and…” Korra trailed off sheepishly, not knowing how to pose the question. Opal just smiled, albeit distantly.

“Yeah, we went to high school together. We were pretty close, actually. Really close. Best friends, even. But, uh, the thing with her dad… It really messed her up, and she kinda disconnected herself from everyone after he was arrested. We tried to reach out to her, my whole family did -- but she refused any of our help. She was determined to fix that mess on her own, even though it wasn’t necessarily her mess to fix.” Opal paused, eyes getting distant with thoughts of the past. “The extent of our communication with her now is through Wing and Wei, when she goes to their cafe. Even then, it’s not much more than pleasantries. I haven’t seen her in ages.” she finished sadly.

Korra felt that heaviness in her heart again, like she’d gotten when Mako told her Asami’s story.

“Well, maybe… Maybe we can all hang out some time!” Korra offered, but her excitement was half-hearted, and Opal’s sympathetic smile told her that it wouldn’t be that easy.

“Don’t let all that put you off though, Korra. Asami is an amazing person, one of the strongest people I’ve ever met. I’m not upset with her for cutting herself off from me, I understand why she felt like she had to do it. She’s just… complicated. That’s all.”

Korra nodded, looking down into her lap thoughtfully. Then she looked back up at Opal with a grin.

“Honestly, I don’t think anything could put me off from her,” Korra said with an airy laugh, feeling her heart pounding in her chest. “I haven’t felt this way in awhile, Opal, and I don’t think anything can put me off of this feeling anytime soon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of things - Asami totally has like 3 Ferraris (hence the license plate) bc she why wouldn't she??, Wing and Wei own a cool-ass cafe (and yes, that was Ryu working as a waiter… idk man, this part came out of nowhere), Asami has a thing for 80s Manchester rock bands, Korra seems to have consistent trouble opening doors, and holy moly the last bit got sappy as hell!!
> 
> This is super fun to write, I’m really happy you guys are liking it too, gauging from all your lovely comments! Keep on reading and commenting if you feel so inclined, I appreciate every single comment and kudo. Y’all rock. :)
> 
> Disclaimer: I should mention that the cafe is based off one I frequently attend called Craftsman and Wolves (name credit to them, I’m super clever I know). The muffin/egg thing is real, and it’s totally insane. I don’t know why I felt compelled to put that in there, but w/e. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay sorry I was planning on posting this last night but things are getting crazy with college letters coming in and so many decisions happening about the ~future~ and I got overwhelmed and went to sleep super early ANYWAYS I’m sure none of you care so have some MORE CUTE DATES!!!!!

The week could not have gone by any slower.

 

The painful anticipation of seeing Asami again was tempered only by the sparse text conversations she and Asami shared (often ending with Asami having to go off to a meeting, or inspect some branch of the company, or give some lecture; she ended these goodbye texts with the crying emoji, though, which was adorable, and always made Korra feel a little better). The best by far was when Asami sent her a video of the Stone Roses vinyl spinning on her turntable, the catchy riff of “She Bangs the Drums” ringing out, and Asami humming along in the background, accompanied by the message “sounds sooo good, thank you!!!!!”

 

(Korra had probably watched that little ten second video about twenty times now.)

 

The times in between texting Asami (which was, unfortunately, most of the time) were nearly unbearable, because Korra couldn’t seem to stop thinking about her. This had never happened to her before, this constant, non-stop thought, not even when she’d dated Mako, and that scared Korra a little -- but it was a good kind of scared, an excited kind of scared. The kind of scared Korra got when she ran away to Republic City -- scared of the unknown, the future, but excited for it all nonetheless.

 

So the days went by, agonizingly slowly, until finally, _finally_ , Saturday came around.

 

***

 

The Future Tech Arena was at the end of one of the piers extending into Yue Bay; Korra had never been down there, and it was fairly far from the apartment, so Korra decided to take a cab (she still hadn’t invested in a light for her bike yet).

 

As the cab pulled up to the entrance to the pier, Korra gasped; she’d seen pictures of the Arena, but never at night -- it was truly a sight to behold.

 

The bright spotlights and glowing golden exterior gave the impression of something holy, like some ancient sacred cathedral, and as Korra stepped out of the cab into the balmy summer breeze and joined the ranks of whooping and cheering fans filing down the pier, she thought, for many of these people, that description wasn’t far off. Young boys, old women, little kids and their parents, people of all ages sporting the red and white of the Fire Ferrets -- Korra suddenly understood why Asami was so shocked to hear she’d never been to a game. She could tell right away, this was a deep-seated element of Republic City’s culture.

 

Asami was standing where she said she’d be, to the left of the entrance. She was, yet again, leaning against a vehicle (this time, a shiny black motorcycle), buried in her phone. She was wearing an official Fire Ferrets jersey, red with white trim, the darker red of the half gear logo printed above a white number 7 on her chest, paired with black jeans cuffed up around her ankles and black high top Converse. Her hair was tied back, and the whole look made her appear simultaneously younger and more mature. Korra couldn’t explain it, but _damn_ was it a good look.

 

Loud music blared from the outside speakers, and the din of fans entering the stadium around it made it impossible to hear anything, so Korra waited until she was close enough to touch Asami before speaking up.

 

“Hey, stranger,” Korra said, imitating Asami’s greeting on their first date. Asami looked up, grinning widely as she saw Korra approaching.

 

“Hey, Korra! -- wait, what are you wearing??” Asami suddenly looked frantic, and Korra looked down at her blue t-shirt and black jeans.

 

“What?” Korra asked, suddenly panicking at Asami’s expression.

 

“ _Korra_ ,” Asami groaned. “You’re wearing _Wolfbat_ colors. They’re our mortal rivals. You’ll get eaten alive in there in any shade of blue!”

 

Korra felt sheepish, and scratched the back of her head awkwardly.

 

“Oh, I didn’t know… Uh…”

 

But Asami was suddenly beaming at her.

 

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you covered,” Asami reached into a bag resting on the seat of her motorcycle. She pulled out a red hoodie, with _Fire Ferrets_ across the chest in white script, and held it out towards Korra. “And I’m just giving you shit, don’t worry. But I was serious about getting eaten alive in there -- you’d be covered in popcorn and peanut shells by the end of the night!”

 

Korra laughed.

 

“Basketball’s taken pretty seriously around here, isn’t it?”

 

Asami nodded vigorously.

 

“Oh yeah, it’s life and death. Last year, the Fire Ferrets lost to the Wolfbats in the final, and Raiko actually called a city-wide day of mourning on account of everyone being too hungover from depressed binge-drinking to work.”

 

Korra raised her eyebrows incredulously.

 

“Are you serious?”

 

“Deadly. Now put that hoodie on and lets get inside!” Asami urged.

 

It was certainly too warm out for a hoodie, but Korra didn’t want food refuse chucked at her all night, so she unfolded it. Korra pulled the hoodie over her head, then almost fainted as the smell of Asami’s perfume washed over her with extreme intensity. The smell seemed to be soaked into the fabric of the sweater, and Korra didn’t care that it was a tad warm -- jasmine wafted up from every angle, and Korra could _totally_ get used to this.

 

Asami locked her bag up in the compartment on the back of her bike, then turned towards the steps up to the Arena. Korra noticed Asami’s jersey didn’t sport the name of a player, but rather said “Sato” across the back in white lettering.

 

“Customized jersey?” Korra asked.

 

Asami nodded with a smile.

 

“Why number seven?” Korra asked, purely out of curiosity.

 

“It was my mom’s favorite number,” Asami said, staring straight ahead, without skipping a beat, and Korra’s heart sank guiltily. It must’ve shown on her face, because Asami turned to look at her, then broke into a small smile.

 

“Korra. It’s okay.”

 

Korra blushed a bit, looked down at the ground solemnly. But suddenly, Asami’s hand slid into hers, and it stayed there, and they were _holding hands_ , and Korra forgot everything else that was happening around them, her heart soaring.

 

Asami led her skillfully through a tight crowd around concession stands, and Korra hardly had time to get her bearings amongst the smell of beer and salt and sweat, and squealing teenage girls and frat boys chanting some cheer that sounded suspiciously like “Fuck the Eel Hounds” followed by a series of claps.

 

Finally, they turned down a hallway with signs that said “Courtside” plastered all over the walls with arrows pointing downwards. A bulky security guard stood in front of concrete stairs leading down, and Korra was instantly intimidated by his stoic expression, until he saw Asami and broke into a small smile.

 

“Good evening, Miss Sato,” he greeted with a nod, stepping aside to let them down.

 

“Hey, Hang, how are you?” Asami greeted cordially.

 

“I’m very well, thank you for asking.”

 

“And the missus? The kids?”

 

Hang smiled broadly.

 

“All doing great, thank you, Miss Sato.”

 

Asami smiled.

 

“Glad to hear it. Hope its a good one tonight. Go Ferrets!” Asami said, then pulled Korra down the stairs. As she passed Hang, he smiled and nodded.

 

“Korra,” he rumbled cordially in his deep voice. Korra’s eyes widened, and she stared at him incredulously until the tug on her arm became painful, as Asami, not realizing Korra had stopped, yanked her down the stairs by the hand.

 

“He knows my name!” Korra exclaimed as she followed Asami down the concrete steps. “How does he know my name?!”

 

Asami stopped abruptly, causing Korra to crash into the back of her. After detaching herself carefully and mumbling a quiet ‘sorry’, Korra noticed the raised eyebrow of expectancy Asami was shooting at her. It dawned on Korra after a few seconds, and she smacked a palm to her forehead.

 

“Right, you basically own this place. You have really nice courtside seating and you know all the security dudes and you probably told them I was coming and…” Korra trailed off, nodding. Asami grinned at her.

 

“Smart girl,” She commented, then continued to lead them down the steps. She still kept a grip on Korra’s hand, and Korra couldn’t keep the smile off her face.

 

Asami’s seats were good. _Really_ good. Like, _the players were warming up ten feet away_ good. Asami must have noticed Korra gaping open-mouthed at the proximity of the players, and smiled.

 

“Perks of funding a basketball Arena -- you get _really nice_ season ticket seats.”

 

“I’ll say!” Korra exclaimed with a sharp laugh. Asami tugged her down into her seat, then finally let go of Korra’s hand (to Korra’s great dismay).

 

Korra was mesmerized by the closeness of the players, and stared transfixed as they went through their warm-ups, amazed by the precision of their shots and the sound of the ball swishing into the net.

 

Asami broke her trance, nudging Korra with her elbow.

 

“See Number 6 there?” Asami pointed to a tall Fire Nation-looking guy who was going in for a layup. “I dated him in high school.”

 

Korra looked at Asami with eyebrows raised, and Asami nodded to confirm, with a smile.

 

“Well, you both ended up doing okay!” Korra exclaimed, and Asami laughed.  They both watched the aforementioned number 6 go through his warmups, dribbling the ball through his legs and jumping up for a layup.

 

“So, Korra, you’ve really never been to a basketball game?” Asami asked, changing the subject.

 

Korra shook her head.

 

“No, it’s not that big a deal back home. We’re fanatics about ice hockey down South, obviously, but that’s about it in terms of sports. I’ve seen a few games on TV here, but Bolin is more into football, and Mako doesn’t care that much for anything.”

 

Asami chuckled, smiling.

 

“Well, I’m glad I can do the honors of taking you to your first game. It’ll be great, I think you’ll love it. The energy in this place is totally contagious.” Asami looked around at the stands above them and across the court, at the sea of red and white filing into their seats all over the stadium.

 

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Korra began. “But I wouldn’t have pegged you as a sports fan. How’d you get so invested in the Fire Ferrets? Literally, and figuratively, I guess.” Korra laughed at her unintended pun, and Asami smiled.

 

“I know -- tech nerd, CEO it’s unexpected, I get that. But if there’s one thing I learned from my father, it’s that you need connections if you want to get anywhere in business. Fortunately, I also happen to love basketball, and have since I was a little girl, so this one was a no-brainer. The Ferrets had that dilapidated old stadium that desperately needed upgrading, I needed a project to boost my company’s reputation and win back the hearts of the people, it was a win-win.”

 

Asami shrugged, and Korra felt that weird, overwhelming sense of awe at Asami’s intelligence and cunning business instincts that she’d gotten when she’d watched those videos before their first date.

 

“Well, I’m impressed. This place is insane. The outside is just gorgeous, especially at night.”

 

“Yeah, I’m pretty proud of this one. Designed it myself,” Asami said casually, and Korra felt her eyes bugging out of her head as she stared incredulously at Asami.

 

“You _designed_ this place?”

 

Asami nodded.

 

“Tech genius, architect, CEO, connoisseur of fancy pastries, what _else_ do you do?” Korra asked. Asami laughed, then leaned in close (the crowd was getting louder, cheering at the introduction of the starting lineups) and whispered in Korra’s ear,

 

“Stick around, maybe you’ll find out.”

 

Korra felt a blush creep up her neck, and she knew she had every intention of doing so.

 

***

 

Asami was right -- Korra loved the game.

 

It wasn’t just the basketball, or the quality of the match -- it was the collective, the entire stadium, the sea of red and white coming together as one voice to chant “Defense!” or cheer on the star player as he lined up for a free throw. It was the excitement when a player blocked a shot, the groans when one airballed a three-pointer, the entire stadium leaping up and shouting when a player broke away down the court and dunked the ball with ease. Korra didn’t even care much for basketball, but the energy of the stadium was indeed contagious; the cheers, the players working hard just feet away, the feeling of unity among the fans -- it filled Korra with pure adrenaline and she found herself jumping to her feet and cheering when a Ferrets’ three-pointer hit the net with a satisfying _swoosh_.

 

(Asami’s excitement, which was adorable, certainly rubbed off on Korra as well. More than once when a Ferrets player stepped up to the free throw line after a foul, Korra glanced sideways and caught Asami with her hands clasped tight under her chin and a look of desperate hope in her eyes, muttering something that sounded a lot like “please make it” over and over -- the player would miss, and she’d deflate and roll her eyes, groaning; the player would make it, and she’d leap up triumphantly, releasing the tension in her body, cheering loudly then turning to Korra for a hi-five. Korra felt herself grinning uncontrollably every time she looked at Asami.)

 

The game was tied down to the last ten seconds, the Eel Hounds about to score when a Ferrets player blocked the layup, passed down court to his teammate who shot a three, making it and beating the buzzer by a half-second. The entire stadium erupted as the Ferrets claimed dramatic victory, and Korra felt elated (although the crushing hug Asami enveloped her in after the final buzzer went off probably had more to do with that then the game’s result itself).

 

Once they began to exit the stadium, the pure, unadulterated excitement died down a bit, and they made their way outside where the open air diluted the loud cheers and chatter so they could talk to each other without having to scream. Asami was still raving about the game as they walked towards where she parked her motorcycle.

 

“. . . And he was missing, like, all of his shots in the first half, so when he went up for that last one, I was like, no way, he’s gonna lose the game for us… I’m so glad he proved me wrong! I take it all back!”

 

Asami was laughing, her face flushed pink, and the streetlamp above them illuminated her face eerily and beautifully, and Korra’s heart swelled. _This_ was the real Asami Sato; underneath all those flashes of distance and sadness Korra saw in her at the gala, beneath that somewhat cold, calculating businesswoman exterior Korra saw in the videos, this was Asami, 23 and young and beautiful, laughing about innocent things, flushed in excitement, without a care in the world. Korra was eternally grateful she got to see this part of her; she guessed not many others did.

 

Asami was smiling warmly at her.

 

“Well, we picked a good one, Korra,” She remarked, and Korra laughed.

 

“We certainly did! That was like, the most excited I’ve ever been. Not an exaggeration.” Asami raised her eyebrows, and they laughed together. Korra went on, more seriously. “Thank you, Asami. Seriously. That was awesome.”

 

Asami just shrugged.

 

“It was my pleasure. Have I converted you yet?” She asked, leaning in a little, with a teasing lilt in her voice.

 

“Oh, totally. Next time you see me I’ll be decked out head to toe in red and white, you can count on that.” Korra said with a joking smile. Asami laughed.

 

“I’m gonna hold you to that, Korra.”

 

They laughed together, and then it got quiet, both of them coming to the realization that their evening together was coming to a close. Asami cleared her throat, then turned around to open the compartment on the back of her motorcycle.

 

“Well, I guess I should go. Big meeting tomorrow morning with Varrick. Gotta be well rested to deal with that man’s energy, Spirits.” Asami shook her head, rolling her eyes. Korra smiled.

 

“How’d you get over here? Cab?” Asami asked, pulling out a leather jacket and a shiny red helmet. Korra nodded. Asami slipped into the sleeves of her jacket, and Korra tried her best to not start drooling, because, _damn_ Asami could rock leather like nobody’s business.

 

“Want a ride?” Asami asked casually, gesturing over her shoulder to her motorcycle, and Korra felt her eyebrows fly up to her forehead.

 

“Seriously?”

 

“Yeah, why not? I’ve got an extra helmet. Beats paying a cab fare, and having to chat with a creepy cab driver, no?” Asami was smirking.

 

“Um, yeah… Yeah, sure! Thanks,” Korra coughed, rubbing the back of her neck. She’d never ridden on a motorcycle before, and it wasn’t that she didn’t trust Asami, she was just slightly terrified at the prospect.

 

Asami must have read her expression; she rolled her eyes.

 

“Don’t worry, Korra,” She said, tossing Korra a slightly dented black helmet, much less glamourous than the one Asami was sporting. “I’m not gonna kill you. I’ll take it easy, promise.”

 

Korra laughed nervously, sliding the helmet onto her head.

 

“No, its not _you_ I’m worried about. As a seasoned cyclist in this city, I’m more worried about the other drivers.”

 

Asami smiled, nodded in understanding.

 

“I know what you mean. Good thing I have… _lightning fast reflexes_!”

 

Asami jumped forward and jabbed Korra in the stomach teasingly. Korra flinched away, laughing, then returned the contact, lightly punching Asami on her leather-padded shoulder. Asami continued the bout, fake-kicking Korra in the shins, and as Korra went for a return jab in the ribs, both giggling, Asami’s hand shot out and grabbed Korra’s wrist before she could even make contact. She pulled Korra in close by her hands, so their faces were almost touching, and Korra’s breath hitched. Asami’s eyes bore into hers intensely, and Korra could feel her warm breath on her face. Korra felt the heat rising in her neck.

 

“Don’t try me, Korra. I’ve been in self-defense classes since age six. I will mess you up.” Asami was smiling slyly, that teasing lilt back in her voice, but Korra felt her knees trembling anyways. She laughed nervously, the blush creeping up to her cheeks, and Asami held them there for a few more seconds, grinning wickedly, as if she knew exactly what she was doing; Korra knew Asami knew just what she was doing to her.

Just as quickly as she’d grabbed Korra, Asami let go, and turned back towards the motorcycle, slipping on her helmet and climbing on.

 

“Come on, let’s bounce!” Asami exclaimed. Korra followed suit, pulling on her helmet and situating herself behind Asami on the bike. Only once she’d climbed on did she realize what riding behind Asami would entail, and Korra froze, suddenly feeling extremely awkward.

 

They both sat there, motionless, for a solid few seconds, before Asami turned her head slightly, expectantly.

 

“Korra…”

 

“Hm?”

 

“Unless you have impeccable balance and superhuman lower body strength, you’re gonna wanna hold on.”

 

“Oh! Uh, yeah, right.”

 

Korra swallowed, leaning forward to wrap her arms around Asami’s waist. She felt Asami’s stomach contract slightly with soft laughter.

 

“There ya go,” she murmured, and Korra held on a little tighter, in fear of falling off the bike before Asami even began driving.

 

Asami turned her keys in the ignition, and Korra jumped slightly as the bike hummed to life. It purred as Asami navigated them out of the parking spot and began slowly down the pier. Korra relaxed a little, this wasn’t so fast, this wasn’t so bad, she could handle this… And then Asami turned off the pier, gunning the gas, and the bike shot down the street. Korra felt her stomach drop to her toes as she was propelled forward even closer into Asami’s back, arms instinctually tightening around her waist.

 

Korra thought she may have yelped, but she couldn’t tell over the roar of the engine. She felt Asami’s stomach move again under her hands, presumably in laughter.

 

“Relax!” Asami shot over her shoulder, yelling above the roar of the engine, and Korra wanted to, she really did, but truth be told she was absolutely terrified. She gritted her teeth, closed her eyes (it helped to not see the cars speeding past them only inches away in all directions), and held on even tighter.

 

As they sped on, a strange sensation came over Korra, a hyperawareness that Korra became attuned to if she really focused. Once she stopped focusing so hard on the sound, the deafening roar of the engine, she opened herself up to other senses. She felt the vibration of the engine rattling every bone in her body, she felt the wind whipping against the tiny sliver of exposed skin at her neck, and she felt her heart pounding in her chest, pounding against Asami’s back and echoing back to her. Korra focused on this only for a very long time, the heartbeats, and Korra began to wonder if the pounding she felt against the exterior of her own chest wasn’t her own heartbeat rebounding off Asami, but rather Asami’s heartbeat pounding through her back and against Korra. Korra thought about this, about their synchronized heartbeats, and the thought put her almost instantaneously and completely at ease.

 

Korra opened her eyes, lifting her head from where it had ended up resting against Asami’s shoulder. They were speeding through the streets of Republic City (Korra had no idea where they were; they were going too fast to see anything clearly), Asami expertly steering them around cars and through intersections. Lights -- streetlights, headlights of cars, neon signs of restaurants -- became nothing more than colorful blurs, streaks of pure energy as they sped past, and juxtaposed with the blackness of night, it was eerie and beautiful. Feeling Asami’s heart pounding against her own, watching the lights flash by like falling stars, Korra felt completely at peace.

 

Suddenly, they were slowing down, and Korra was snapped from her reverie by the sound of the engine puttering to a halt as Asami stopped in front of Korra’s building.

 

“I believe this is your stop,” Asami said teasingly. Korra slowly and regretfully detached herself from Asami, suddenly feeling cold at the lack of contact. She took a moment to regain her balance, the ghost of the engine’s roar still buzzing through her body. Once on the sidewalk, she handed Asami the borrowed helmet, and was beginning to remove the borrowed hoodie, but Asami waved her off.

 

“Keep it. I can get as much gear as I want for free; you _need_ to have some Fire Ferrets swag or we can’t hang out anymore.”

 

Korra laughed; she did not mind the idea of keeping Asami’s sweater -- it felt domestic and couple-y and made Korra’s heart warm.

 

“Thank you, Asami, again. That was some of the most fun I’ve ever had.”

 

“I’m glad. You continue to impress me, Korra. You handled that motorcycle ride like a champ.”

 

Korra shrugged, held up her palms.

 

“What can I say, I’m a natural!”

 

Asami laughed, shook her head. Then they became quiet, solemn; the rush of car tires against asphalt, distant shouts, the sounds of the city around them filling the space between them.

 

Asami suddenly looked distant, almost sad, and Korra felt panic rising in her chest. But just as soon as the emotions crossed her face, they disappeared, and Asami furrowed her eyebrows and shook her head slightly, turning back to Korra and clearing her throat as if she’d just been momentarily distracted.

 

“I’ll… uh, call you, okay? I’ll call you.” Asami gave a small smile.

 

“Yeah. Call me.” Korra responded, quiet tone matching Asami’s.

 

“Okay.” Asami nodded slightly, then leaned forward, lightning quick, and pressed the tiniest and briefest kiss to Korra’s cheek. “Bye, Korra.”

 

“Bye,” Korra said, almost a whisper, as Asami leapt back onto her bike, put on her helmet, and, with one final smile back at Korra, sped off into the darkness of the night. Korra stood in a trance, cheek burning where Asami’s lips had touched, body still buzzing head to toe from the roar of the engine of Asami’s motorcycle.

 

***

 

They saw each other three times in the next three weeks, and they texted nearly every day in between.

 

A few nights after the game, Asami called Korra after an extremely busy and stressful day at work, saying she needed to decompress; they went out to some upscale bar by Asami’s office and Korra hadn’t even heard of half of the kinds of alcohol they were serving there; they both got a little too drunk and at one point Korra burped loud enough for the entire bar to hear, and she got ten dirty looks but the only thing that mattered to her was how hard Asami laughed, and the way she dropped her hand to Korra’s knee and left it there for the rest of the night.

 

After that, Asami was hit with a rush of work, and they didn’t see each other for a week. Asami texted Korra whenever she had time, but it wasn’t much, and Mako kept commenting on how fidgety Korra had become during that time.

 

Asami surprised her at work, pulling into the parking lot in her red Ferrari and pretending to be an angry customer, and Korra had become extremely flustered, while Asami couldn’t stop laughing at Korra’s surprise. They got lunch during Korra’s break, and Asami ranted about work for awhile, and Korra accidentally let slip that she’d missed Asami, and Asami had just smiled shyly and touched Korra’s hand. Before she left, and Korra had to go back to work, Asami told Korra she thought her hair looked cute in a ponytail; Korra spent the rest of the day grinning at nothing.

 

A week later, Asami invited her to a gallery opening -- one of her friends from highschool had a photography show premiering, and Asami wanted her to come as a plus one. Korra had to borrow another dress from Opal, and Asami looked unbelievable in a curve-hugging black dress, and mingling amongst the young urban adults with Asami at her side and a flute of fancy champagne in her hand made Korra feel more important than she ever had in her entire life. She had a half-hour long conversation about bikes with a complete stranger, with complete ease, and as she chatted, Asami shot her glances across the room from where she stood talking to old friends that made Korra blush without reason. Asami later told Korra the guy she’d been talking with was an up-and-coming app developer and one of the most eligible bachelors in the city, but Korra wouldn’t trade anything for leaving the event with Asami’s arm looped through hers as they strolled the midnight streets of downtown Republic City.

  
  


***

 

They had a date planned for next Saturday; Asami had called her and said she booked them reservations at a restaurant on Air Temple Island (apparently, normally one had to make reservations months in advance, but Asami was able to pull some strings, as she always was) -- they would take the ferry across Yue Bay, and, as Asami put it, “kill two birds with one stone” in terms of Korra’s sightseeing checklist.

 

Korra had mentioned these plans casually to Bolin, who’d raised his eyebrows and given her that _look_ , the one he gave her whenever she said she was going to meet Asami somewhere, that smug, suggestive look.

 

“What?!” Korra had demanded, and Bolin smirked.

 

“Oh, nothing… It’s just that, I mean, Air Temple Island, a ferry ride across Yue Bay at sunset… Sounds pretty romantic to me. If I didn’t know better, it seems like Asami’s getting serious.” Bolin inspected his nails innocently, and Korra felt her heart pounding in her chest.

 

“Wait… You mean…”

 

“I think you’ve got yourself a hot CEO girlfriend, Korra.”

 

“What? No. Really? You think she’ll… like, ask me, or something?”

 

Bolin ruffled her hair, laughing.

 

“You’re adorable.” He said, standing up from the couch they sat on and heading towards the door. “I’m going to meet Opal for dinner, see you later.”

 

“No, Bolin, wait!” Korra exclaimed, leaping from the couch. “You can’t just drop that kind of bomb on me and _leave_!”

 

Bolin just chuckled, slowly closing the door, waggling his fingers at Korra through the ever-shrinking gap.

 

“Bye, Korra,” he said in a sing-song voice.

 

“Bolin! Come baaack!” Korra wailed, but the door shut with a click. Korra collapsed back on the couch with a huff. Just then, her phone went off, and she saw a new text from Asami.

_I’ll pick you up at 6 tomorrow. Restaurant is semi-formal, interpret that how you may. (You know I don’t really care what you wear - unless its Wolfbats blue at a Fire Ferrets game - bc you manage to pull off literally everything) I’m excited!!!!_

 

The words were followed by a winking emoji, and Korra’s heart was beating harder in her chest. She hadn’t really thought about her and Asami’s relationship status all that much, just that she knew they had decidedly been going on dates, and that she was really, _super_ into her. Korra had to admit, she liked the sound of having a “hot CEO girlfriend”. . .

 

Korra flopped back onto the couch, lying on her back and scrolling through the selfies she and Asami had taken at the gallery opening on her phone, smiling so wide the corners of her mouth hurt.

 

 _Girlfriend_?

 

She prayed to the Spirits Bolin was right.

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay listen I have never actually been on a motorcycle, that’s just how I imagine it’s like? SORRY if that’s not realistic lol I have no idea. 
> 
> Also I realized that Mako and Bolin not being that into ~sports~ is sort of OOC perhaps?? Oh well. It fit better with the story. 
> 
> I hope the (semi?) timeskip was okay -- the next chapter is big and I kinda just wanted to get to it! 
> 
> Thank you all again for your continued support, it means so much to have awesome people like you enjoying my story! 
> 
> Get stoked for the next chapter -- as Bryke once so eloquently put it, poop goes down (albeit on a smaller scale) :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of course right when I tell you guys there’s a set update schedule, I go and completely mess that up by posting four days late… So sorry!!! (I was sick for the past few days and also very distracted by other stressful life things, and on top of that this chapter took AGES to write, so there’s my excuse.) I hope this extremely long and eventful chapter can make up for my tardiness, and I promise I’ll update sooner in the future!

Korra tugged at the collar of her shirt. Squinting at her reflection in the mirror, Korra’s fingers found the top button, and, for the umpteenth time, she buttoned it, then unbuttoned it, then rebuttoned it again. Then unbuttoned it. Then buttoned it again. With a frustrated groan, Korra turned away from the mirror, instead turning to face the clothes scattered all over her bedroom. It looked as if a tornado had torn through her wardrobe, leaving practically every article of clothing she owned strewn somewhere on the floor or on the bed or over the lamp in the corner of the room. Korra sighed, then turned back to the mirror, fingers still hovering over that elusive top button.

 

It had been like this for the past hour.

 

First it was _black pants or grey pants?_ and then it was _light blue sweater or navy blue sweater?_ and now it was _button the top button or leave it open?_ The result was clothing flung every which way across the room, and Korra stressing out way more than she should about an outfit. It turned out that “semi-formal” was even more terrifying than full formal; Korra almost would have preferred a dress, at this point -- something she knew she looked good in, something she knew Asami liked -- but now that Bolin had brought up the notion of _girlfriends_ , Korra was rethinking everything. She wanted to blow Asami’s mind with her outfit (if that was even possible).

 

Korra looked at herself in the mirror once more, head to toe: she wore a white collared shirt with small blue anchors patterned across it underneath a navy blue fisherman’s sweater, paired with loose cut gray pants and brown Clarks desert boots. Her hair was pulled back, obviously -- ever since Asami had mentioned it that one afternoon, Korra had found herself inclined to wear it up more often.

 

Korra looked herself up and down.

 

 _Top button closed_ , Korra concluded with a firm nod at herself, then determinedly made her way to the living room. Bolin and Opal were reclined, as they often were, limbs impossibly entangled, on the couch watching TV, while Mako perched on a barstool at the kitchen counter, clutching a beer and scrolling through his phone. They all looked up as Korra entered.

 

“Well…” Korra said, taking a deep breath and extending her arms out from her sides. “How do I look?”

 

Mako raised his eyebrows, Opal gave a low whistle, and Bolin rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

 

“I’d call it… _Sophisticated and queer_.” Bolin concluded with a nod. Korra snorted as Mako and Opal laughed.

 

“Just what I was going for,” Korra muttered with an eyeroll, but she smiled.

 

“You look really good, Korra,” Opal reassured her with a warm smile. Korra felt the tightness in her chest release a little; she feigned wiping sweat from her brow.

 

“ _Phew_! If you, Opal Beifong, resident fashion expert, think it looks good, then I’m totally set.”

 

Opal waved her off, but she smiled.

 

“I’m honored you think I’m super stylish, or whatever, but its all relative. It’s just cuz you all dress like a bunch of slobs, it makes me look good.”

 

Korra, Mako, and Bolin all expressed their protest at once, and Opal put her palms up in acquiescence.

 

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding!”

 

“Does _this_ …” Korra gestured to herself wildly. “Look slob-ish to you?”

 

“Not at all. Korra, I’m proud of you.”

 

“Thank you.” Korra crossed her arms and huffed smugly, satisfied.

 

“I especially love the hair. When’d you start wearing it like that so often?” Opal asked, and Korra immediately blushed a deep crimson. Bolin tried to suppress a chuckle. Opal looked between the two of them, confused.

 

“AsamisaidshelikeditsoIstartedwearingitlikethis.” Korra mumbled under her breath.

 

“What?”

 

Korra took a deep breath, tried to steady her voice.

 

“Asami… said she liked my hair up. Thought it was cute, or something.” Korra coughed, rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly. She felt the heat in her cheeks.

 

Opal grinned at her. “That’s adorable.”

 

Korra shrugged.

 

“Whatever,” she mumbled, feeling herself blush even more.

 

“I told you,” Bolin said with a smug smile. “Girlfriends.”

 

“Stuff it, Bolin.” Korra mumbled, but she couldn’t keep the smile off her face.

 

“When’s she picking you up?” Opal asked. Korra looked at the clock on the wall. 5:56.

 

“In about four minutes,” Korra replied, taking a deep breath.

 

“You excited?” Opal pressed gently. Korra let out a nervous laugh.

 

“ _Yeah_. And nervous.”

 

“Why? Because of what Bolin said?”

 

Korra nodded. Opal untangled herself from Bolin and stood up, crossing over to put her hands firmly on Korra’s shoulders.

 

“Don’t think about it,” Opal said. “Just have a good time, and what happens, happens.”

 

Korra found infinite warmth and encouragement in Opal’s green eyes, and she let out a deep breath, feeling calmer, if only slightly. Korra nodded.

 

“Yeah, okay. You’re right. Thanks,” Korra smiled at Opal, who returned it. Then, Korra’s phone went off. A text from Asami.

 

_Your chariot awaits :)_

 

“Alright, guys, I’m out!” Korra took one last deep breath. Opal smiled at Korra and gave her a pat on the cheek, and Bolin gave her a high five from where he remained slumped on the couch as she passed.

 

“Go get ‘em, tiger!” He shouted.

 

“Have fun, Korra,” Mako smiled.

 

“Thanks, guys.” Korra paused at the door. “I’ll be back… late, I guess.”

 

“If you’re not home by midnight, should we just assume you’re… _sleeping over_?” Bolin cackled, Opal slapped him hard on the arm, and Korra just rolled her eyes as she stepped out the door.

 

***

 

Asami was waiting in her trademark pose: leaning against a vehicle pulled up at the curb. This time, it was a shiny black town car with dark tinted windows, a polished hood ornament shaped like the Future Tech logo reflecting the slowly setting sun. Asami looked stunning as always in a maroon skirt,  a shimmery black sleeveless blouse, and knee-high brown boots, a leather jacket draped over one arm. She wasn’t looking at her phone this time; she stood with her arms crossed, inspecting the people and cars passing by, until Korra walked out of the front doors of the building, and Asami met her eyes and smiled, pushing off from the car and taking the few steps towards Korra needed to close the gap.

 

“Hey there,” Asami greeted softly, eyes flickering over Korra’s outfit for a split second, then meeting Korra’s. She bit the corner of her lip, and Korra could swear Asami’s cheeks were flushed the slightest bit pink; Korra tried to keep the smug smile off her face, and internally high-fived herself. _Nailed it._

 

“Hey! How are you?”

 

Asami smiled widely.

 

“Good, now that you’re here. Ready for the best night out you’ll ever have?”

 

Korra raised her eyebrows and whistled.

 

“You’re setting the standards pretty high there, Sato.”

 

“Don’t worry,” Asami said, smiling wryly. “I always exceed expectations.”

 

Korra chuckled as Asami turned back towards the car.

 

“Ready?” She asked, and before she could open the door, Korra, suddenly flush with confidence, leapt forward, beating Asami to the car door and opening it with a flourish, bowing low and extending her arm extravagantly.

 

“Miss Sato,” Korra said in her best subservient voice. Asami raised her eyebrows, smiling.

 

“Wow, Korra, I’m flattered.”

 

Asami played along, accepted the outstretched hand Korra offered to help her get in the car (even though the curb was nowhere near high enough to warrant it), giggling as Korra “helped” her get in. Korra slid in next to her on the soft leather backseat, closing the door and taking in the dark interior of the car. There was enough leg room in the backseat that Korra could’ve lay down on the floor and been comfortable, and a cooler filled with bottled water was built into the carpeted floor. In the front seat, which seemed miles away, was the driver, dark suit, sunglasses, wireless radio and all, just like in all the movies, and Korra tried to contain her excited reaction.

 

“To the pier, Miss Sato?” The driver called back.

 

“Yeah, thanks, Rei.” Asami replied, and he started the car, pulling out from the curb and driving off.

 

Korra fiddled with her window, lowering it and raising it so just a crack of outside light streamed in. She turned back and noticed Asami smiling at her.

 

“Yeah, people are always pretty excited to ride in one of these for the first time.”

 

Korra nodded eagerly.

 

“Yeah, this is super cool! I don’t think I’ve ever been in a car this fancy, except for maybe the limo we took home from the gala.”

 

Asami chuckled.

 

“It’s so funny, to see people’s reactions to the simplest stuff. I mean, it feels simple to me. I’ve been driven around like this all my life, I never considered it anything special. It just seems normal. It just kinda reminds me… We’re from such different worlds. _I’m_ from such a different world.”

 

Asami looked sad for a second, eyes cast downwards, and Korra tilted her head to catch her gaze, trying to convey sympathy. Asami looked back at Korra, smiled softly.

 

“And, y’know, you’d think I’d feel more comfortable with the other big business heirs my age, like the people at that gallery opening I took you to -- we all come from that same comfortable background. And we’ll all be comfortable for the rest of our lives, considering the market stays good. We have a lot in common, but I don’t feel like one of them. I resent them, in a lot of ways, even though I wish I didn’t. But I do.”

 

Korra thought about Asami’s words for a moment, processing. She spoke after a moment.

 

“It’s because they didn’t have to work for anything. They just had the good fortune of being born into the right family. None of them have been put in any situation where they had to step up and actually _do_ something. Not like you.”

 

Asami nodded, shrugged.

 

“I guess, yeah. Maybe.” She turned to Korra with a curious smile. “You’re quite insightful, you know.”

 

Korra shrugged.

 

“It makes sense, to me. That you wouldn’t feel like one of them.”

 

Asami laughed, almost bitterly.

 

“I don’t feel like one of _anyone_ , really.”

 

“Lonely at the top, huh?” Korra offered softly.

 

Asami smiled sadly, shook her head. She turned to look out the window at the tall skyscrapers as they passed by.

 

“Hey, it’s okay,” Korra reassured her. “I’ve felt like that a lot of my life, too. Like no matter where I went, or what I did, or who I hung out with, that something was a little off. That maybe I didn’t belong.”

 

 _Until I came here. Until I met you_ , Korra was tempted to add, but she didn’t want to drop that on Asami all at once. It was true, though; maybe something to do with her sexuality, or not wanting to follow the path her dad set out for her -- either way, Korra had been prone to bouts of extreme loneliness throughout her life, feelings of being misunderstood, even when surrounded by friends and family.

 

Asami was looking at her, sadness still tinting her green eyes, but also the tiniest bit of hope.

 

“And how did you deal with that?” She asked, softly.

 

“Well, I haven’t yet, not completely. But I went with the flow, mostly. I tried new things. I found people who understood me.”

 

“Mako and Bolin,” Asami concluded, and Korra nodded her confirmation.

 

“Yeah, definitely. It’s amazing how much changes when you find people who see you at your worst, and still accept you for it. It quiets some of your demons, you know?”

 

Asami was smiling, that look of awe in her eyes again, that way she looked at Korra sometimes, at random times, when Korra didn’t even realize she was doing or saying something noteworthy.

 

“Yeah. I do know.” She replied quietly, and Korra couldn’t help but feel Asami was talking about her. Korra turned away, hiding her smile as she looked out the window.

 

They were quiet for awhile, Korra running her fingers over the multitude of buttons on the car door next to the window button, not even able to fathom what they all controlled. She thought of something, a topic of conversation that was a little less heavy, and turned back to Asami.

 

“Hey, not that I’m not totally psyched about getting driven around in this awesome fancy town car, but when do I get to ride in your Ferrari?”

 

Suddenly, from the front, Rei snorted loudly, muttering something that sounded a lot like “never”, and Asami raised her eyebrows.

 

“Oh, Korra, I like you a lot and all, really -- but, well, the Ferrari’s pretty much off limits. I mean, you really gotta work for it. I don’t let just anyone ride in my custom-made baby. Anyone, at all. Like, ever. It’s not personal, I promise.”

 

Asami was being as serious as possible, but her smile broke a few times, and Korra laughed, putting her palms up.

 

“No, I get it, I get it.”

 

“Yeah, Asami, wasn’t that model chick the last person you let ride in there? Didn’t she spill something in it, too?” Rei chuckled from the front seat.

 

Asami had blushed bright pink, and Korra remembered that paparazzi photo she’d found online -- if Bolin was right, maybe she’d get to ride in the Ferrari sooner than she expected.

 

“Yes, and that’s why I don’t let anyone ride in it anymore!” Asami nearly squeaked, and Korra couldn’t contain her laughter. She’d never seen Asami this flustered before.

 

Asami turned up the music from the control on her door, and slouched a little bit, looking embarrassed. Korra couldn’t keep herself from smiling.

 

“I need to start making you wear earplugs, Rei. Or blindfold you. You know too much.”

 

“With all due respect, Miss Sato, then I wouldn’t be able to drive.” Rei said, smiling. Asami thought for a second, then gave a firm nod.

 

“Fair enough.”

 

Korra smiled at the interactions between the two, and Asami must have noticed.

 

“Rei’s been working for our family since the outset of the company’s success. I’ve known him since I was born.”

 

Rei nodded enthusiastically from the front seat.

 

“I’ve known this one since she was only knee high to a grasshopper! Remember, I used to drive you to all your dance classes, and self defense?”

 

“Sure do,” Asami said with a smile. They stopped at a red light, and Rei turned around over the back of his seat to look at Korra.

 

“She’d always try to climb into the front seat with me, always try to grab the steering wheel and drive! I’d have to block her from the front seat with one arm, and drive with the other, and I had to bribe her with candy to keep her in her seat!” Rei laughed, a wheezy, smoker’s laugh. He turned back to Asami. “You were a handful, Miss Sato.”

 

“Still am,” Asami replied with a smile, and Rei laughed again.

 

“Yup, still are. Swap the dance lessons for business meetings, you’re still a busy gal.”

 

Asami smiled, and sighed.

 

“Always,”

 

Before Korra could react to any of this, they’d reached the pier, and Korra could see the ferry docked at the end of it.

 

“Well, here we are, ladies. It was a pleasure to meet you, Korra,” (“You too!” Korra responded) “and I hope you both have a lovely night. Miss Sato, just gimme a call, as always.”

 

“Will do. Thank you, Rei!”

 

“Thank you!” Korra chimed in, as they stepped out of the car onto the concrete of the pier. Rei drove off, leaving Korra and Asami facing each other, smiling.

 

“Well, ready for your mind to be blown by the most beautiful bay in the whole world?”

 

“My mind is ready,” Korra responded, offering Asami her arm jokingly, and she took it, laughing. They walked arm and arm to the ticket booth, joining a crowd of more well-dressed young adults headed out for a night on the island.

 

***

 

Asami was right; it blew Korra’s mind.

 

The setting sun reflected off the surface of the water, bathing the whole bay in a golden glow. The breeze was perfect -- cool but not freezing, balmy but not too humid. The smell of saltwater assailed Korra’s senses, and she realized just how long it had been since she’d experienced that; it made her nostalgic for sunset fishing trips with her old friends from home. The view of the city was unbelievable, too: Korra had seen the Republic City skyline hundreds of time at this point, but never from this vantage. Not only that, as the ferry made its way further and further out into the bay, the view changed, a new angle every few minutes.

 

They spent the entire ride out on the deck, even though most passengers elected to go sit inside; Korra couldn’t tear her eyes away, and she spent the whole ride smiling out over the water.

 

At one point she caught Asami smiling at her, as she slipped on her leather jacket (the breeze had become decidedly chilly).

 

“You’re like a dog hanging out a car window,” Asami commented, and Korra blushed, grinning. Asami joined Korra at the railing, mimicking Korra’s position and leaning out on her elbows, looking over the bay and across at the skyline. The breeze gently buffeted her dark hair, and the setting sun illuminated the glint of yellow in her green eyes.

 

“Reminds me of home,” Korra murmured, and Asami smiled softly.

 

“You miss it?”

 

That was a loaded question. Korra thought hard for a moment, and decided, deep down, she didn’t. She truly didn’t.

 

“To be honest, not really. I mean, I miss the memories of being a carefree kid, going fishing with my buddies, that kinda thing. But I don’t think I’d want to go back, not right now. I mean, this…” Korra gestured out over the bay, shrugging her shoulders exaggeratedly, eyes widening. “This, this is like the best of home, plus some. Plus a lot. I mean, we’ve got nice sunsets back home, but we don’t have this kind of view. Just a bunch of ice floes.”

 

Korra laughed, and Asami joined her.

 

“I know. It’s something else, isn’t it?”

 

Korra hummed in agreement.

 

“I mean, I’ve lived here my whole life,” Asami went on. “And I’m still not over this. The bay, the water, the skyline. The beauty of this whole city. It’s inspiring, in some weird way, if that makes sense.”

 

Korra nodded gravely.

 

“Oh, yeah, I totally get it. Gives you that fluttering in your stomach, that happiness and excitement and, like, fear, almost. The feeling that you’re on the edge of something great.”

 

Asami shifted closer, bumping her shoulder into Korra’s, smiling at her.

 

“You sure you work at Sports Basement? You’re not like, a closet philosopher, or something?”

 

Korra laughed, shaking her head.

 

“It’s just common human experience, man.”

 

“Correction: a pot-smoking, hippie philosopher. You sure?”

 

Korra laughed, shaking her head, returning Asami’s bump to her shoulder. Asami bumped her back, and they continued the exchange, back and forth, until they were still, leaning comfortably against each other, staring out over the glowing golden water, watching the skyline get smaller and smaller as they floated on farther and farther away.

 

***

 

Air Temple Island was a whole other world. The tall white tower at the top looked even more majestic from up close than from a distance, and the acolytes carrying scrolls under their arms in their simple orange robes made Korra feel like she’d jumped back in time, if not for the chattering groups of young urban professionals with their slicked back hair and fingers flying over smartphone screens that joined her and Asami coming off the ferry. It was an odd juxtaposition, to say the least.

 

“Wow,” Korra breathed, as they passed a zen garden, complete with bamboo and delicately carved statues, where a group of Air Nomads were having a sunset meditation. It was peaceful and pristine, and Korra wondered how they’d managed to keep the island so secluded from city life (save for the tourists and wealthy city-dwellers who came over for sightseeing and traditional Air Nation cuisine). Asami seemed to read her thoughts.

 

“Ready for a history lesson, Korra?”

 

Korra smiled, nodded eagerly.

 

“Alright. So. Here goes,” Asami took a deep breath. “The Air Nomads are probably the oldest surviving culture in the world. For hundreds of years, they lived in peace on secluded islands scattered all over the world, upholding a way of life completely unique to them. Strict vegetarianism, deep meditation, studying the history of the world and creating vast libraries of knowledge on every subject you could imagine: botany, martial arts, philosophy, even early forms of technology.”

 

Just then, they passed a tall statue of a bearded monk with the trademark arrow tattoos of the most accomplished scholars, seated in a meditation position.

 

“They’re a scholarly culture by nature, very philosophical and inquisitorial, and above all, completely selfless. The highest honor you could achieve as a scholar was pure altruism, and peace with oneself. Accepting your flaws, being at peace with them, and putting all your energy into helping others. Really cool stuff.”

 

Korra nodded in agreement, watching as they passed another group of acolytes, a group of younger kids going through martial arts forms. They moved breathlessly, fluidly, as if they were one with the wind and the air around them. It was stunning, and Korra’s step faltered as she watched in amazement.

 

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it? They don’t use their training for fighting, either. It’s simply another way for them to find inner balance and peace. You know, historians have found legends in the oldest surviving scrolls, tales of the most pure-minded and highest-achieving scholars gaining the ability to actually _control the air_.”

 

Korra looked at Asami, eyebrows raised.

 

“What do you mean?”  
  


“Like, they could manipulate the actual element. They could control the wind, create tornados, move clouds. There are even old tales of a guru who, through his selflessness and purity of soul, was actually able to fly.”

 

Korra looked at Asami incredulously, and Asami laughed.

 

“Just stories they tell kids, probably. Old fairy tales. But still, pretty cool.”

 

They were making their way up an incline, up a curved, stone path towards the tall tower at the top of the island. Korra assumed the restaurant was in the tower.

 

“Anyways, history lesson. No doubt you’ve heard of one Fire Lord Sozin who decided the Fire Nation was the supreme nation, the supreme culture and race, and should conquer the entire world?”

 

Korra grimaced, nodded. She remembered her high school World History class, and the grave lessons about the fascist dictator who tried to wipe out entire cultures.

 

“Then you know what he did to the Air Nomads. Attacked their islands with firebombs, burned them to ash. By the time the Earth Kingdom was able to come to their aid, only one of their islands remained. See, the Nomads don’t believe in violence of any sort, so they didn’t fight back. Weren’t equipped to fight, even if they wanted to. As a result, they were about to see their entire culture wiped out if it wasn’t for the Earth Kingdom.”

 

“The Battle of the Northern Air Temple, right?”

 

Korra remembered it from her studies. Asami nodded.

 

“Yeah. By some miracle, an extremely outnumbered Earth Kingdom fleet, with the help of as many Air Nomads as were willing to abandon their pretenses to save their culture, was able to take down the Fire Nation. That victory, as you probably know, set off the chain of Earth Kingdom victories that led to Sozin’s downfall and the end of the war. But in the process of winning that battle, the Northern Air Temple itself was destroyed, and the Nomads had to live as refugees in the Earth Kingdom for a couple generations, unable to fully practice their culture, having to cope with the entire written history of their culture having been bombed to ash along with their islands. They reverted to oral history as a last resort, and kept what they could alive.”

 

“Then, when the United Republic was formed, the world leaders at the time thought it was only fair to grant the Air Nomads this island, just a small piece back of what they lost, not nearly enough, but something nonetheless. They were able to keep their culture alive through oral tradition long enough, and once they moved to the island, they rebuilt it from the ground up. They’ve spent all their time since then salvaging what they can of their past culture, restocking their vast libraries and dedicating their lives to keeping their history alive.”

 

“But, of course, world leaders are greedy; in exchange for the island, the Air Nomads were obligated to allow some development on the island, something Republic City could profit from. Hence, tourism.”

 

Asami gestured at a young man dressed in acolyte robes, heading a group of chattering tourists, enthusiastically talking into a microphone headset about the history of the statue they stood in front of.

 

Korra whistled low. Asami laughed.

 

“I know, right? Crazy. But the Air Nomads are like, my heros. They’ve been through so much, historically, yet they don’t have an ounce of hate in them. Talk to any one of them, and they hold no resentment for what our ancestors did to theirs. Nothing. Just peace, and gratefulness. They’re incredible.”

 

Asami spoke with such conviction that Korra knew there was something about these people that Asami connected to, something about their history that resonated with her.

 

“How do you know so much about them?” Korra asked, curious.

  
“Oh, I’ve studied them all my life. And I used to spend a lot of time here, after… After my mom died. My dad had a hard time making time for me after that; Future Tech took nearly all of his attention, so I kind of found a second home here, with the acolytes. I found some semblance of peace, some orderliness away from the insanity of being a Sato. I was angry, you know? Angry that the world took my mom from me, angry that my dad invested more time in the company than in making sure I was okay. The Nomads taught me to let go of that anger, to try and find peace with the world and accept that what had happened, happened, and there wasn’t much to be done about it.”

 

“Of course, then I went to high school, and then a year after I graduated, my dad, y’know… Well, I haven’t been around in awhile. And I’ve relapsed into being pretty angry again about certain things, as you can imagine.”

 

Asami smiled wryly, and Korra smiled sympathetically.

 

“But I think about what they taught me a lot. Even if I can’t accept my own flaws, or let go of my own anger, I’ve seen the Nomads do it for themselves, and that gives me a little hope, at least. To know that if not me, someone else can find that inner balance.”

 

An immense sadness washed over Korra then; not because Asami seemed sad about this conclusion, but because she was so resolute in it. Like she’d given in, accepted that she wouldn’t ever be able to find her peace, that it was too late. Korra felt defiant; Asami was still young, only 23, and even if she’d gone through enough for someone twice her age, Korra knew she could still find it.

 

“It’s not too late, Asami,” Korra expressed this sentiment. Asami only smiled sadly and shook her head.

 

“It kind of is.”

 

Korra opened her mouth to protest, but before she could, she realized that they’d reached the entrance to the temple. It towered above them, imposing and authoritative, and Korra could spot flashes of orange as acolytes walked past the windows several floors up.

 

“The dining area is on the fourth floor, right in the middle of the tower. Super nice view on all sides.” Asami said, following the group of loud techies they’d been behind since getting off the ferry up the stairs into the temple, as if their previous conversation hadn’t happened at all. Korra stood where she was for a few seconds, feeling a bit of conversational whiplash. She shook her head, and took the steps two at a time to catch up to Asami.

 

***

 

The dining area was simple and elegant, a large and open room covered in multicolored rugs, with woven tapestries hanging from the walls. The tables were low to the ground, and patrons sat crosslegged on pillows on the floor. It was packed, but the layout of the room and the windows adorning the outside walls every few feet dispersed the sound into a soft, pleasant chatter.

 

A young waitress in a white blouse and orange harem pants led them to a table in the corner of the room, somewhat secluded from the center of the area. She lit the candle in the middle of the table, and immediately it gave off a calming scent of orange blossoms as Korra and Asami sat down across from each other. The waitress left them menus, poured them some tea, and left with a smile. Looking around, Korra felt her mouth go dry, her heart started pounding -- the last dying rays of the sun streaming through the window, the candle flickering softly between them, the separation Korra felt from the rest of the room -- it was decidedly, incredibly _romantic_.

 

Korra sipped at her tea, hoping to calm her rising nerves, but she ended up burning her tongue instead. She winced visibly, and Asami raised her eyebrows.

 

“You okay there?”

 

Korra nodded, laughing nervously.

 

“Yeah, I’m fine. I always do that!”

 

Asami laughed, and she was looking at Korra in that _way_ again. Korra smiled, and Asami just gazed at her for a few moments before giving her head a slight shake, breaking her reverie to look down at the menu.

 

“Okay, so, food. As you may have guessed, its completely vegetarian, but don’t let that put you off. They can do stuff with bean curd that should be illegal for being so delicious.”  
  


Korra laughed, looking over the menu and becoming suddenly overwhelmed by the multitude of dishes she’d never heard of before.

 

“Hey, how about we do that thing where you order stuff for both of us since you know what’s good and I’m hopeless at being cultured about food?” Korra ventured with a wry smile, and Asami laughed loudly.

 

“Always putting the pressure on me, aren’t you?” Asami smirked. Korra scoffed.

 

“Oh, come on! Coming from Miss ‘I always exceed expectations’...?”

 

“I knew that’d come back to bite me…” Asami feigned disappointment before joining Korra in laughter.

 

“Hey, don’t worry about it. I could live off instant noodles, so I’m sure anything here will seem like a delicacy.”

 

“Spoken like a true 22 year old,” Asami quipped.

 

They slipped into easy banter then, and Korra marvelled at how quickly their interactions could turn around. Just five minutes ago Asami was talking about some of the darkest moments of her childhood, and now they were joking about ramen noodles, just like that. It baffled Korra to no end, and she almost wished she had more control over it. But Asami had mastered the art of changing the conversation on a dime, whenever she wanted to. Korra could imagine that skill came in handy for her very often.

 

The food came surprisingly fast (although maybe not so surprising, considering Asami’s position, and on top of that, her personal connection to the Island) -- dishes of foods Korra had never seen before, spicy and sweet aromas wafting up from them enticingly. After just a few bites, Korra realized Asami had it spot on: it should be illegal for something to be this delicious.

 

They ate happily for a very long time, Korra trying and failing to resist the urge to stuff her mouth as full as possible. When the waiter brought out the soup dumplings, Asami slid a spoon Korra’s way, encouraging her to swap out her chopsticks. Korra refused, puffing her chest in pride.

 

“Hey, I grew up eating stewed seaweed with chopsticks! I’m pretty sure I can handle a measly soup dumpling.”

 

Asami put her palms up, but she smirked, watching Korra closely as she went for the dumpling. Korra popped it in her mouth triumphantly, and Asami raised her eyebrows.

 

“Okay, okay, I was wrong.” Asami admitted.

 

Of course, the very next dumpling Korra went for slipped right through her chopsticks, plopping into Korra’s bowl of soup and splattering broth all over Korra’s face. Korra tensed up, making a face, and Asami laughed so hard she almost choked. Once she’d composed herself, Asami had leaned across the table to wipe Korra’s face with her napkin, and Korra decided getting slightly scalded with drops of broth and completely embarrassing herself was worth it for that reaction.

 

Later in the evening, as they leaned over the table over a shared bowl of red bean custard, the darkness outside tempered by torches mounted above them on the wall, the laughter at a story Korra had told about Bolin slowly dissipating, Asami got distant for a few moments, looking out the window adjacent to them at the lit skyline across the bay. Korra waited a few moments before thinking of saying something; this happened every so often, and usually Asami snapped herself out of it without Korra having to. This time, she was silent for a while, and right as Korra was about to ask if she was alright, Asami turned back to Korra.

 

“Hey, um, I just wanted to, I don’t know, apologize, I guess. For like, sometimes dumping all my weird internal issues on you without warning, and then acting like it didn’t happen. It’s just, I’m not the best at… feelings.” Asami laughed nervously, and Korra laughed softly, but immediately covered Asami’s hand with her own.

 

“Spirits, Asami, don’t apologize for that!”

 

Asami shrugged, smiling sadly.

 

“I know I shouldn’t, but, I don’t know. It’s hard. I feel awkward. I don’t really talk about anything, with anyone, ever. So it’s a little pent up, y’know? I don’t really know how to express it well, so it just sort of… comes out sometimes. And then I don’t want to talk about it after that, because I get self-conscious.”

 

Korra shook her head.

 

“Nah, Asami, you’re fine. It’s totally okay. Whatever way you can express it, I’m here to listen. I just wish…” Korra took a deep breath. “I wish I could do something to help you, with any of it. I hope it’s not out of line for me to say that.”

 

Asami smiled, turning her hand under Korra’s so that they were comfortably holding hands across the table.

 

“It’s not. And I think it’s why I feel so inclined to tell you stuff. Remember what you said in the car earlier, about finding people who understand you? How much of a difference that makes?”

 

Korra nodded.

 

“I don’t know what it is, Korra, but I just feel like you understood me before you even knew who I was. I can’t explain it, but I get the sense that you do. And you don’t have to explain why I feel that way, if you know -- in fact, I’d rather you didn’t -- but something about you, the way you didn’t press me about my true identity at the gala, how you were guilty about accidentally bringing up my mom at the basketball game… I don’t know, Korra. I don’t know. Something makes me feel like you… get me.” Asami blushed, and laughed nervously. Korra squeezed her hand, slightly overwhelmed by it all. She reverted to humor to try and shake the feeling.

 

“It’s just common human experience, man.” Korra quoted herself from earlier, smiling slyly, and Asami laughed sharply. Korra smiled, then got serious again. “You’re more self-aware than most people our age, you know?”

 

Asami shrugged.

 

“I’m an introvert. I think about it all a lot. Have since I was little.”

 

Korra nodded.

 

“Look, Asami, whatever the reason is… I’m glad you feel like you can tell me this stuff. If it’s not obvious already, I mean, I like you, kind of a lot,” Korra felt herself turning red. “And I’m always down to listen, and help if I can in any way. It’s not a problem in the least, please don’t feel like it is.”

 

Asami returned the squeeze on her hand and smiled at Korra, but there was that distance in her eyes again, and Korra felt her heart pounding in her chest.

 

“Thank you, Korra. I appreciate that, I really do.”

 

Asami’s smile was genuine, but Korra couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.

 

Suddenly, Asami laughed, breaking Korra’s unease.

 

“It’s so funny. We’ve only known each other for, what, a month? A month and a half? Whatever it is, not that long -- but we’re talking like we’ve known each other for ages.”

 

“It does feel like it’s been much longer, doesn’t it?” Korra added, realizing only now how much of her new life in Republic City had revolved around Asami, whether in thought or in actuality, since they’d met.

 

Asami hummed in agreement, and they sat in comfortable silence for a few moments, both looking out the window at the illuminated skyline, lights dramatic against the dark water and the black sky, hands still lightly clasped across the table.

 

“Well,” Asami broke the silence rather suddenly, releasing Korra’s hand and starting to stand up. “Shall we?”

 

***

 

They sat inside on the ferry back (the temperature had dropped as the sun had gone down), sitting on the same side of one of the booths and chatting lightheartedly, back to their flirtatious banter. But Korra couldn’t stop thinking about their conversation at dinner, and she felt conflicted; she was glad Asami felt like she could talk to her, but she was also slightly concerned, about the chronic occasional distance in Asami’s eyes, and about Asami in general, who seemed more complicated to Korra now than she ever had.

 

But as they joked with each other, Korra looked for the signs of sadness in Asami’s eyes, and they weren’t there, not then. She looked truly happy, and Korra wondered how much else was buried deep down inside her that Korra hadn’t even caught the slightest glimpse of yet.

 

***

 

It was only about 9:30 when the ferry docked, and they stood for a moment at the end of the pier and watched all the wealthy techies that had been on the ferry over with them pile into taxi after taxi, probably off for a night of bar crawling. Asami looked slightly bemused as a crowd of young men in sweaters with neatly combed hair and thick-framed glasses passed by, whooping and shouting something about tequila shots in nasal, high-pitched voices.

 

“Please,” Asami scoffed. “Trust me Korra, those guys can’t handle their liquor. I’ve been to enough open bar events to experience that first hand. No self control whatsoever.”

 

Korra made a face, and Asami laughed.

 

They watched the last of the loud groups of friends pile into a cab, and then Asami turned back to Korra.

 

“Well, Korra, the night is young. Wanna try to get some more sightseeing in?” Asami asked with a smirk.

 

“I’ve got nowhere to be,” Korra said with a shrug.

 

“You’ve been to Republic City Park, right?”

 

“Of course.”

 

“Ever been to Republic City Park _at night_?” Asami asked, raising her eyebrows.

 

“That would be a no.” Korra responded. Asami grinned.

 

“It’s settled then. We’re going. There’s something I wanna show you there, that I think you’ll really like.”

 

“Oh?” Korra asked, quirking an eyebrow. Asami just smiled and tugged at her arm, and they started off the pier and down the streets of Republic City towards the park.

 

***

 

The Park was dark and mostly empty, save for the scattered groups of drunk teenagers sitting in the grass, and quiet save for the teenagers’ occasional outbursts of shouting. They passed the odd late-night dog-walker or two, but other than that, they were unaccompanied, and it was both eerie and calming to Korra at the same time.

 

They’d been walking for quite awhile in comfortable silence, seemingly towards no particular destination, when Korra finally spoke, trying to keep the smile off her face as she joked.

 

“Okay, Asami, be honest: are you taking me here to murder me?”

 

Asami laughed loudly, shaking her head.

 

“No, I’m not gonna murder you, Korra.”

 

Korra pretended to look around at their dark surroundings warily.

 

“Promise?”

 

“I promise,” Asami affirmed, rolling her eyes with a smile. “C’mon, we’re almost there.”

 

They followed the barely-visible curve of the path they were on, around the corner of a hedge, and just as Korra perceived the sound of rushing water, they came upon a huge fountain, spurts of water bursting high in delicate patterns and brightly illuminated with pale blue lights. Korra couldn’t contain her tiny gasp of awe; it was stunningly beautiful.

 

“Wow. Okay. Yeah. You have exceeded all expectations,” Korra conceded, eyebrows raised. Asami chuckled.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“ _Yeah_. First Yue Bay, then Air Temple Island, now this? Like, three of the most picturesque spots in the entire city, in one night!”

 

“What can I say, I have good taste.” Asami smiled wryly, and Korra nodded enthusiastically.

 

“I’ll say!”

 

Asami crossed over to sit on the edge of the circular fountain, crossing her legs delicately and leaning back on her palms.

 

“Yeah, I’m proud of this one,” she said with a contented sigh, patting the concrete ledge affectionately. Korra felt her eyes bug out of her head, and she rushed over to sit beside Asami, looking her right in the eyes incredulously.

 

“Asami Sato, you _did not_ design this fountain.”

 

Asami smiled coyly, examining her nails, and shrugged.

 

“Hey, a girl’s gotta have hobbies. My side projects are the only things that keep me sane, sometimes.”

 

“Right, yeah. Designing a fountain and an entire freaking _basketball arena_ are ‘hobbies’. You’re truly something else, Sato.”

 

Korra shook her head, laughing, and Asami smiled and tilted her head adorably, looking genuinely touched.

 

“It’s not that a big deal, Korra.”

 

Korra raised her eyebrows skeptically.

 

“It’s not!” Asami laughed, defensive.

 

“It is!” Korra insisted, taking on a more serious tone. “Asami, you are seriously the most amazing person I’ve ever met. And not just because you own an entire business empire at your age, but just, like, in general.” Everything was starting to come out at once, and Korra couldn’t seem to do anything to stop it. She wasn’t sure she wanted to, either.

 

“Korra…” Asami started, trying to wave her off, but Korra wouldn’t let her, not this time.

 

“You build fountains for fun! You listen to super cool 80s music, you know about, like, _food_ , and culture, and stuff, and you drive a motorcycle and a fuckin’ _Ferrari_!”

  
Asami laughed, and Korra could tell she was blushing in the light from the fountain.

 

“And I know you have some… insecurities, but honestly, they make you even more amazing, truly. You’re, like, so insanely strong, and this is all coming out at once and I’m sorry if it’s a lot but I just really like you, a lot, and… I don’t know what I’m even getting at, here…” Korra trailed off, flustered, because she suddenly found that somehow her and Asami’s faces had gotten quite close, and she could smell Asami’s perfume, and her green eyes were bright even in the dim light of the fountain, and she was smiling shyly and bemusedly, those red lips curled upwards enticingly, and it struck Korra hard how much she wanted this, wanted _her_. The dates, the flirtatious banter, the eye contact was all well and good, but Korra knew she wanted, _needed_ something more.

 

Asami’s eyes flickered down to Korra’s lips, just once, but that’s all it took to break Korra’s hesitation. Without a moment’s notice, before she even had a chance to think, Korra leaned in and pressed her lips to Asami’s.

 

She felt Asami tense against her, just for the slightest second, and then she relaxed into the kiss, slowly and smoothly. All Korra’s senses were on overdrive; she felt Asami’s cool skin against hers in four different places, could taste the sweetness of their shared dessert on her tongue, and the roaring of the fountain water behind them intermingled with the sound of Korra’s heart pounding in her ears. The kiss deepened, and Korra cupped Asami’s cheek, fingertips just brushing Asami’s hairline; her raven hair felt even softer and silkier than Korra had dreamed it would. Asami sighed softly against her, and Korra felt her heart flutter in her chest.

 

Korra couldn’t lie to herself: she’d daydreamed about kissing Asami from the moment they’d met -- at work, as she folded clothes for a display, at the breakfast table, with her morning coffee and a sleepy smile, even while she worked out at the gym -- random moments throughout her day spent imagining what it would feel like to have Asami’s lips pressed against her own, to have to sneak back into the apartment with Asami’s red lipstick smeared at the corner of her mouth, on her neck… But in this moment, with the chilly night air surrounding them, the rush of the fountain water behind them, with Asami’s cold knee pressing into Korra’s leg and her mouth pressed against Korra’s, Korra knew that nothing could have prepared her for this, no amount of imagining or fantasizing could have come close to the real deal. Korra’s whole body buzzed, she felt the heat in her neck and her cheeks and her ears, she drowned in the smell of Asami’s perfume, tasted the sweetness on her tongue… Korra came to the resolute conclusion that she never wanted this moment to end --

 

And just as this thought crossed her mind, Asami suddenly pulled back, abruptly. Their faces remained close, almost touching, and they were both breathing heavily. From what Korra could see from their close proximity, Asami’s eyes were tightly shut, eyebrows knotted in an unreadable expression. Korra felt the panic rising in her chest, tried desperately to draw her back in with another kiss, but Asami pulled back again, the second Korra’s lips brushed hers.

 

“Korra…” she whispered hoarsely, voice wary, and Korra felt her heart pounding in her chest. Her throat tightened as she met Asami’s eyes -- she was looking at Korra with the most heartbreaking expression, some combination of sadness, fear, and regret. She shook her head, looking down at her lap, and when she looked back up at Korra, her eyes glimmered with tears. Korra’s heart dropped to her stomach. _Oh no_.

 

“Hey, Asami,” Korra spoke as gently as possible, reaching out for Asami’s hand. “It’s okay--”

 

“Korra, I’m sorry,” Asami whispered, pulling her hand out of Korra’s gently and starting to stand up. Korra, wildly confused, desperate to keep Asami close, reached out for Asami’s arm, trying to anchor her somehow to her. Everything was happening too fast.

 

“Asami, please--”

 

“I’m sorry, Korra, I’m…” Asami’s voice cracked; Korra felt her heart aching in her chest.

 

“Asami, please, what’s wrong?” Korra urged desperately, starting to feel helpless. _This wasn’t supposed to be happening_ , Korra thought frantically. _Not after as perfect a night as this. Not after that kiss…_

 

Asami stood up, and Korra stood up with her, keeping a gentle hold on her arm. Asami looked away, refusing to meet Korra’s eye. Korra could see the tears on her cheeks in the blue light of the fountain.

 

“Asami--”

 

“I have to go, Korra, I’m sorry--”

 

Korra felt herself starting to panic.

 

“No, please, stay,” Korra begged softly. She’d do anything, _anything_ to get her to stay. She couldn’t leave, not after all that… Asami shook her head, stepped away from Korra another few feet.

 

“I can’t, Korra, I’m so sorry, I just can’t--”

 

Asami turned, frantically--

 

“Asami!”

 

“I’m sorry, Korra,”

 

A final tearful whisper, and then she was gone, hurrying off down the path they came from into the darkness, the heels of her boots clunking against the concrete as she ran. Korra’s brain screamed at her to run after Asami, to catch up to her and wrap her arms around her and try to calm her down, do something, do _anything_ to get her to come back, but her muscles wouldn’t respond. No matter how much Korra wanted to go after her, she couldn’t budge.

 

Korra stood there, alone in the dark by the fountain, paralyzed and wildly confused at Asami’s sudden 180. Korra stood there for a long time, frozen in shock and disbelief that any of it, the entire night’s strange series of events had even happened at all. Korra gave herself a headache trying to understand why Asami had run so abruptly, brain still trying to catch up with the suddenness of it all. Finally, after a long while, Korra’s muscles cooperated, just in the slightest: she moved her hands to the top of her head in distress, and leaned back, looked up at the night sky, full of stars dimmed by city light pollution. The cold breeze buffeted her exposed skin, and the ghost of Asami’s lips brushed against her own, hauntingly.  

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’M SORRY
> 
> but this needed some angst >:)
> 
> Also, I hope you liked the Air Nomad history bit. I had a lot of fun trying to combine the histories of our modern world with that of the Avatarverse’s and kind of messing around with that. I’m a history nerd and I love the Air Nomads a lot so I couldn’t help myself. :)
> 
> Anyways I hope the ending didn’t feel too sudden (I mean, of course it's supposed to be a little sudden, but not out of the blue) -- I tried to lead up to it subtly throughout the chapter, I hope it worked for you guys, let me know how you feel about it! As always I so appreciate your feedback.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have now realized that a set update schedule was extremely optimistic for me… I hate how life gets in the way of writing! Since I have a hectic month or so ahead with exams, graduation, college decisions, etc., I’m going to tentatively say that at the very most it’ll be two weeks between updates. I will try my best to update more frequently, but it really depends on what’s going on at the time. Thank you all for being so patient and understanding, and thank you for being so kind with your comments! You make this all worth it :)
> 
> Without further ado, chapter 7!

“...Korra?”

 

Korra registered Bolin’s voice through the thick comforter she’d wrapped herself up in, emanating from somewhere in the general direction of the doorway.

 

“Mmph.” Korra grunted, not moving from her makeshift cocoon.

 

“Uh, we’re back. Just wanted to see if you were home… Everything okay?” Bolin asked cautiously, and Korra heard him take a few steps into her room. Korra pulled back the comforter just enough to peer at the clock on her end table. 11:30.

 

Getting back to the apartment was a blur; after Korra had regained control of her leg muscles, she’d walked home, but she was so distraught about Asami that she hadn’t really paid attention to much of anything else. Once she’d gotten back, all she felt like doing was laying face down on her bed for the rest of her life, so that’s where she’d been, wrapped in a comforter, fully clothed, for the past hour.

 

“Mmph.” Korra responded again, the energy to speak actual words gone from her body and mind.

 

“Uh oh,” Bolin said, and Korra felt a weight sink into the bed next to her. She pulled back her comforter just the tiniest bit more to see Bolin sitting on the edge of her bed, peering at her with concern. “Were my impeccable relationship-stage-sensing-skills wrong, for once?”

 

“We kissed.” Korra mumbled into her pillow.

 

“Oh! Well, that’s… good, right?”

 

“We kissed, and… then she ran. Just up and bolted.”

 

Korra flipped over onto her back, then sat up, still wrapped in the comforter with a hole for her face to look at Bolin. He was looking at her, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

Korra barely heard Bolin,  her continued bewilderment pushing the words from her mouth instead.

 

“Spirits, it was so perfect, Bo! The ferry, dinner on the island, it was everything you predicted: romantic, the perfect date. She was so honest, too, and she even opened up a little bit. She told me that she felt like I understood her, and that she felt like she could tell me things. Spirits! It was incredible. And then she takes me to this fountain in Republic City Park that she, like, _designed_ herself, and it was so beautiful and _she_ was so beautiful and we kissed, and _that_ was, like, _next level_. Like, you wouldn’t even believe, Bo. But then suddenly she pulled away, and then she got all frantic and panicky and like, started _crying_ , and I didn’t know what to do, I tried to get her to stay but she wouldn’t, she just kept apologizing, and then she left. Literally ran away. I tried to run after her, but I was too in shock. Shit, I still am.”

 

Bolin nodded slowly, looking thoughtful.

 

“Well, that explains why you were face down on your bed wrapped in a comforter when I walked in.”

 

Korra slumped, looking sullen. Bolin scooted forward, patted her knee with a sympathetic look in his eyes.

 

“That sucks, Korra, I’m sorry.”

 

Korra scoffed.

 

“I just don’t get it! It was all going great and then _bam_. Something set her off. Am I just a really bad kisser? Is that it? I mean, what the _fuck_ , Bolin?! She just _left_.”

 

Bolin tried and failed to contain a burst of laughter, then cleared his throat, becoming serious again.

 

“Look, I don’t know Asami, like, at all, but I’m gonna take a gander here and say that, maybe, because of her past, she has a hard time getting close to people, trusting them, because of what happened with her dad, you know? From what I can imagine, that girl is a tortured soul, Korra. She has been through some shit.”

 

Korra crossed her arms, looked across the room at nothing.

 

“Yeah, you don’t know her,” Korra mumbled. Bolin was right though; Korra was just annoyed she hadn’t come to that conclusion herself first.

 

Bolin put his hands up, shrugged. Korra took a few moments to get over her jealousy at Bolin’s perceptual abilities, then nodded.

 

“No, you’re right, Bolin. That would make sense. But then, why now? Why spend all that time with me, then withdraw _now_?”

 

“Was it that sudden? That completely out of the blue?” Bolin asked.

 

Korra sighed, shook her head.

 

“No. No, not exactly. She gets… distant, sometimes. When she talks about her past, or just randomly. But, I don’t know, it never seemed debilitating. Not until now.”

 

“Maybe the kiss stirred something in her, I don’t know. Some memory of when someone she cared about romantically betrayed her trust, or something.” Bolin ventured.

 

Korra shrugged.

 

“It could be anything. I don’t know. I just, Spirits, I just wanna talk to her. Get this sorted. Because when we were kissing, man, I don’t know. I just realized how much I wanted, like, an actual relationship with her. And the minute I come to that conclusion, this happens, and I’m totally bewildered. I don’t understand. I wish I could, but she’s so complex. I want to give her space, because it seems like she needs that, but I also want to help her. She shouldn’t have to deal with this alone, not after everything in her life. She should never have to deal with anything alone ever again.”

 

Korra ran a hand through her hair, buried her face in her hands. Her stomach was twisting painfully, and she had a headache again (truthfully, the first one had never really gone away). She looked back up to find Bolin smiling sadly at her.

 

“You really like her, don’t you?”

 

“Yeah, I do, and that’s why this is screwing me up so badly. I don’t want to mess anything up.”

 

Bolin scooted closer, put an arm around Korra’s shoulders. He squeezed gently, rubbing her shoulder.

 

“Look, why don’t you sleep on it. Give it overnight. Then try to get in touch, but gently. Don’t let any of your frustration get out. Just make it known you’re here for her, and you want to help her work through it, figure something out. I guarantee you, if she likes you as much as it seems she does, she’ll be willing to talk.”

 

Korra rested her head on Bolin’s shoulder, suddenly exhausted. She took comfort in the smell of his cologne and residual shaving cream, and closed her eyes.

 

“I hope you’re right, Bolin. Because if she breaks this off, I might lose my mind.”

  
***

 

Heeding Bolin's advice, Korra slept on it -- as well as she could, though the unpleasant feeling in her stomach that had arrived upon Asami's sudden departure kept her in a constant state of unease, and her sleep was restless. In the morning, Korra woke feeling emotionally hungover, and she spent the day wandering the apartment aimlessly, resisting frequent urges to call Asami every few minutes. She knew Bolin was right: Asami needed space, but Korra couldn't help taking out her phone nearly every hour, fingers finding Asami's name in her phone and thumb hovering over the call button before talking herself down, acquiescing to common sense.

 

By Monday, though, Korra couldn't take it anymore. She texted Asami before leaving for work, something simple and supportive, like Bolin had suggested:

 

_I hope you are okay. I wanted to give you some space but I couldn't really take not reaching out to you much longer. If you feel ready, I really think we should talk. I care about you a lot and I'm 100% willing to help you through whatever this is. I hope you still feel like you can talk to me. I'm always here._

Korra got no response from when she sent the text to when she arrived at work, and she spent the entire day in a state of constant agitation; her boss had a strict no phone policy while on the clock, and Korra couldn't take not being able to check if Asami had responded. During her lunch break, Korra was deeply disappointed when she found no notifications on her phone, and in a moment of frantic distress, she called Asami and got her voicemail.

 

"Asami. Hey. It's Korra. I don't know if you saw my text, but I just want to make sure everything is okay. I'd really like to talk, if you're ready to. I'm at work now but I get off at three, please feel free to call anytime after that. I understand if you're busy with work, but... I really need to talk to you. Please."

 

Korra hung up with a sigh; the desperation had permeated her voice and she hoped it didn't frighten Asami off again. If Asami ever even listened to the message. The rational part of Korra told her she was probably busy with work, but the nagging paranoia that Asami was purposely ignoring her persistently invaded Korra's thoughts, hanging at the back of her mind every passing minute.

 

The day passed without a response, and by the time Korra got home she was utterly exhausted from remaining in a constant state of anxiety the entire day. At night, as she lay in bed, sleep evading her once again, her mind went to that dark place it went to occasionally, spiraling out of control with irrational fears and paranoia.

 

_What if Asami wasn’t busy? What if she was so upset that… what if something happened to her?_

Korra felt panic rising in her chest, threatening to choke her, and as if they had minds of their own, her hands shot to her night table for her phone, and her fingers had tapped out and sent a message to Asami before her mind could even register what she’d done.

 

 **Korra (12:34 AM):** _At least let me know that you are okay._

 

Shortly after, Korra steadied the trembling of her hands, evened her breaths, calmed her racing heartbeat. She thought of the first time she met Asami, the way she looked at the gala, and managed to fall into a deep sleep.

 

***

 

 _Korra. Hey. It’s Asami…_ (a pause, a deep breath) _I’m sorry for not getting back to you sooner. I’m sorry for running off. I’m sorry for everything. I wish I could explain why I’m like this, but even I can’t explain it to myself. I don’t know._ (pause) _I appreciate you giving me some space; you are so thoughtful and kind, and I needed it. The thing is, Korra, I’ve been thinking the past few days, and… I’m so sorry, but I don’t know if it’d be the best idea for us to see each other. By that I mean go on dates, like we’ve been doing. I know this is hard to hear, and it’s hard for me to say, but I think it’s for the best. But I do want to talk, I want to explain why I’m doing this, I owe you at least that much. If you’re free today after work, maybe we can meet up. Let me know._

This was the message that waited in Korra’s voicemail upon her awakening. Korra had opened the voicemail with relief and anxiousness, but after listening to it, all the relief had melted away completely. Korra felt a lump forming in her throat; Asami sounded so sad and defeated, and her words multiplied the effect tenfold.

 

From Korra’s call history, she saw Asami had called at 4 AM that morning, hence Korra not answering initially (she’d been asleep). This made her sadness deepen further, knowing Asami was up late, struggling with work or emotions or loneliness, and Korra was unable to do anything to help her.

 

That was the bottom line: Korra felt helpless, useless, like a failure because she felt like she couldn’t do anything to fix the defeated resignation in Asami’s tone.

 

Korra sat slumped on her bed for ten minutes; a few more and she’d be running late, but Korra couldn’t seem to find the motivation. A sudden urge to call her dad and ask for advice washed over her, but was gone as soon as it had arrived; Korra laughed cynically, remembering that relationship was headed towards ruin too. Korra felt the beginnings of an existential crisis edging at her, so she leapt off her bed and grabbed her bike, heading out the door before her brain could do any more damage with its wallowing and excessive thought.

 

Before leaving the house, Korra tapped out a message to Asami.

 

**Korra (8:27 AM):** _I’m free at 3_

 

 **Asami (8:30 AM):** _Meet me at the coffee shop by your work?_

**Korra (8:31 AM):** _See you there. Have a good day Asami_

**Asami (8:32 AM):** _Thank you, Korra. You too_

***

 

Asami sat in a corner window seat of the coffee shop; as Korra chained her bike up, she could see her through the large windows. Her profile was strangely gaunt, and Korra could see the dark circles ringing her eyes, shadows peeking out from under her concealer. She wore a maroon hoodie and black jeans, her hair up in a messy bun, and it was the least done up Korra had ever seen her.

 

She still looked breathtakingly beautiful, of course.

 

Korra entered the shop and caught Asami’s eye immediately; Asami gave Korra a sad smile, and Korra could almost feel her heart breaking at the sight.

 

“Hey,” Korra said softly, sliding into the seat across from Asami.

 

“Hey,” she replied. “Are you getting anything?” Asami asked, gesturing at the counter where baristas were taking orders. Korra glanced over her shoulder, realizing coffee hadn’t even crossed her mind. She just wanted to talk to Asami.

 

“Oh, uh, nah, I think I’m good.”

 

Asami nodded, and then a silence fell between the two of them. Korra looked at Asami; Asami tried to avoid Korra’s gaze. Korra felt a tension between them that had never been there before, and she hated it more than anything in the world. Finally, Korra couldn’t take the silence anymore.

 

“So…” she began, not knowing what to say but desperate to break the silence. Asami’s lips twitched slightly, as if she were about to smile, but it didn’t break.

 

“I’m sorry for running, Korra.” Asami whispered, voice hoarse and tentative, as if she were expecting Korra to lash out. Korra bit back the urge to instantly say it was okay, because if she was being honest, it wasn’t, considering the stress Korra had been feeling since Asami left Saturday night. But Korra knew it wasn’t Asami’s fault, either; she just wanted to get to the bottom of it all.

 

“I guess I really just want to know… why?” Korra asked gently. Asami grimaced.

 

“Why I ran, or why I said what I did in the message?”

 

Korra shrugged.

 

“Both, I guess.”

 

Asami took a deep breath.

 

“The latter kind of answers the former, so I’ll start with that, I guess.”

 

Korra nodded eagerly. Asami took another deep breath.

 

“I have… certain issues committing to people, Korra. Because of my position, and the responsibility of my job.” Asami paused and glanced at Korra cautiously, and Korra got the feeling it had to do with much more than just her job, but she kept quiet, letting Asami formulate her words. “I just don’t have a lot of free time, as you know. My last relationship… it ended really badly. She was upset because I wasn’t able to set aside enough time for her. I was too busy all the time, and she wanted so desperately to spend more time with me, and I with her, but I just couldn’t neglect my responsibilities like that. She couldn’t handle that, and she got really, really hurt by it. I tried to convey that it wasn’t her, it was me and what my position entailed, but she didn’t buy it. She couldn’t understand, and we both got hurt by it pretty badly -- her, by my neglect, and me, by her not understanding.”

 

Asami paused then, wringing her hands and glancing out the window at passerby. She looked especially pale, and Korra wanted to reach out for her hand, but resisted the urge. Asami turned back to her.

 

“With you, Korra, it all felt so easy, so non-committal. We met when we had time, and it never got in the way of my job. I began to believe that maybe this kind of thing could work for me.”

 

Korra noticed the wistfulness in her green eyes, the ghost of hope in the twitch of her lips upward.

 

“But then… then we kissed, and it hit me how serious this was getting. How serious my feelings were getting. I realized I wanted so much more, and that scared me, because I knew I couldn’t have more. I knew where that path led and I didn’t want to go down it again.”

 

Conflicting emotions bubbled up in Korra’s stomach: elation that Asami felt the same way as her about them, crushing sadness that she couldn’t act on her feelings. Asami was glancing out the window again, and when she turned back to Korra, Korra was startled by the tears glimmering in her eyes.

 

“I can’t hurt someone like I hurt my last girlfriend, not again. Especially not you. I can’t Korra, I just can’t.”

 

Asami bit her lip, fighting the tears, and this time Korra showed no restraint in taking Asami’s hand in her own. Asami squeezed her hand, hard, till her knuckles were white and it became painful. After a while, Asami regained her composure, refusing to break. She wiped the few residual tears from her eyes, inhaling deeply.

 

“That’s why I don’t think we should see each other anymore, Korra. It’s not because I don’t like you -- it’s the opposite, actually. I like you too much for both of our own good.”

 

Korra intertwined her fingers with Asami’s firmly, and spoke determinedly. This was not the last time she would see her.

 

“Asami, it doesn’t have to be like that. I’m not your last girlfriend, this is different, I’m different. I understand. I do. I know you have a ton on your plate all the time, and I respect that, I respect the work you do and the burden you carry. You’re amazing. I wouldn’t mind. I could deal with it. It would be so much better than never getting to see you again, Asami, I’m telling you, that’d break me.”

 

Korra saw Asami’s eyes soften, but she still shook her head ruefully.

 

“Korra, you say that now, but… we couldn’t have a normal relationship. You think you can handle it now, but your feelings, if they get too strong, it’ll overpower everything. I wouldn’t be able to give you what you want, and you’ll get hurt, and I can’t have that on my conscious, not again.”

 

“So what about you, then?” Korra responded, feeling herself getting riled up in her desperation. “Hm? You break things off, say I move on. What about you? It’s not gonna hurt you at all to break this off?”

 

Asami winced.

 

“Of course it will hurt me, Korra. More than anything. But I can deal with that. I’ve been dealing with that all my life. What I can’t deal with is giving you hope that things will ever work between us -- because of me, they just can’t. I can’t deal with hurting you in that way.”

 

Korra felt something bubbling up inside her, and then suddenly her vision went blurry, throat closing up. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, and Korra tore her gaze away, wiping angrily at her eyes.

 

“Korra…” Asami pleaded, but Korra shook her head, composing herself. She wouldn’t let Asami slip this easily. Asami wanted the same thing Korra did -- of this, Korra was now sure -- and Korra knew she could persuade her that it wouldn’t hurt her, knew she could get her to understand how well they could work together, if they gave it a try. She just had to choose the right words.

 

“Then let’s keep it non-committal.” Korra spoke clearly, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms, the last of her tears already drying on her shirtsleeve.

 

“What?” Asami asked, brows furrowed.

 

“You said you can’t commit. So we keep it non-committal.”

 

“Korra…” Asami warned, and Korra knew she being too literal, playing on her words, playing a bit dumb. But Korra had to get through to her.

 

“We don’t put any labels on it. We just hang out, because we like each other. Go out when you have time. You deserve to be happy Asami, and so do I. You make me happy, and I hope I make you happy. It seems like I do. What’s the harm in that?”

 

Korra could see Asami processing her words, cogs turning in that brilliant mind of hers.

 

“I don’t know, Korra…” She finally said, but Korra saw her considering it, and that was a small victory in itself. Korra went on.

 

“I hear what you’re saying, about our feelings getting in the way, making us want things we can’t have. But shouldn’t we at least try? We’ll never know if this will work unless we try, and what if it does? What if it works? If we don’t try, we might lose that opportunity, that possible happiness, forever.”

 

Asami still looked reluctant as she pondered Korra’s proposition, and Korra waited, heart in mouth. After a long spell of staring down at the table, Asami looked back up at Korra, peering at her curiously, analytically, green eyes glinting with something unreadable. Korra felt a pressure on her unlike anything she’d ever felt before.

 

Finally, Asami nodded slowly, spoke cautiously.

 

“Okay. Non-committal. Go out when we have time.”

 

“Yeah?” Korra confirmed, unable to stop the grin on her face. Asami smiled back, lips turning up slightly as she met Korra’s eyes.

 

“Yeah. You’re right. We’ve come this far. Might as well give it a shot, right?” Asami attempted a teasing smile as she reiterated Korra’s words from earlier, but she let out a long sigh afterward, and Korra could still see the unease and uncertainty in Asami’s expression.

 

 _I can work to fix that_ , Korra concluded.

 

“You deserve to be happy, Asami,” Korra repeated, taking Asami’s hand once again, gently. “Don’t let anyone, yourself included, tell you otherwise.”

 

Asami fixed her green eyes on Korra unwaveringly; Korra saw tears brimming, but Asami was smiling gratefully.

 

“Thank you, Korra,” she managed to whisper. Korra nodded, smiling encouragingly.

 

Sitting there in that unassuming coffee shop with Asami, tearful and smiling, hands clasped together, Korra vowed that she’d help Asami through this, assuage all her doubts, heal her emotional wounds, temper her trust issues, do whatever it took for Asami to no longer fear her own happiness ever again.

 

***

 

They sat together in comfortable silence for some time, until Asami’s phone rang, generic bell ringtone disturbing the silence. Asami started slightly at the sound, then sniffled and cleared her throat, taking a deep breath before answering.

 

“Hello? Hi, Zhu Li. He what?!” (Asami’s eyebrows flew to her forehead, eyes widening in panic.) “Oh, Spirits.” (She facepalmed.) “No, no, that’s alright. I’ll head over now. Thanks for handling it. See you soon.”

 

Asami hung up, then sighed irritatedly.

 

“Varrick and his polarizing personality strike again. Somehow he lost one of our biggest partners in our Health Information Technology initiative by insulting their CEO’s mother in an important meeting with other potential sponsors. Of course, now I have to go clean up his mess.”

 

Asami was back in business mode, and it was like their previous conversation hadn’t happened at all. Maybe that was a good thing, Korra thought. Asami was here, Asami hadn’t left, and that’s what really mattered.

 

Korra smiled sympathetically.

 

“You better go, then,” she said, and they stood up, exiting the shop together. Korra noticed Asami’s Ferrari across the parking lot; she wondered where she stood in terms of her ride in it. She knew it was dumb to measure their relationship status by a ride in a car, but Korra couldn’t help herself.

 

“Asami?” Korra asked. Asami looked up from where she was digging in her purse for her keys.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Just to clarify, you didn’t run off because I’m a bad kisser, did you?” Korra asked, trying to inject some humor into their somewhat serious situation (also, if Korra was honest with herself, she was still paranoid about that). Asami laughed loudly, and the sound made Korra’s heart soar. She was back, Asami from the gala was coming back to her, if but slowly, in bits and pieces.  

 

“No, you were fine. More than fine. Really good.” Asami replied, blushing slightly.

 

Korra felt her cheeks flush too, but she took a step towards Asami anyway.

 

“Cool. Just had to make sure.”

 

Korra was grinning, and Asami laughed again. Another tension made itself known between the two of them, but one of a different breed than before, one that made Korra’s skin buzz and her mouth dry and her heart pound in her chest. Unconsciously, her eyes flickered to Asami’s lips, and when she met Asami’s eyes again, Asami was looking at her skeptically, smirking with an eyebrow cocked.

 

“Slow down, Water Tribe,” Asami said teasingly, and Korra blushed, berating herself for trying to move too fast. Asami placed a hand on Korra’s bicep, squeezing gently. “We’ll talk later, then?” She became shy then, tentative, the uncertainty coming back a little, but Korra nodded vigorously.

 

“Yeah, we’ll talk. Thanks for giving me a chance, Asami.”

 

Asami seemed taken aback for a moment by Korra’s words, then she found Korra’s hand and squeezed tightly.

 

“No, Korra,” she said firmly. “Thank _you_.”

 

And then she was gone, hurrying across the parking lot towards her car, and Korra was left standing, equal parts elated and terrified of the burden that she herself had placed on her shoulders.

 

She had to somehow, slowly but surely, convince Asami through their “non-committal” relationship that they could make a committed relationship work.

 

Korra realized she had no idea how she would do that.

  
But as she mounted her bike and headed for home, Korra knew she’d do everything in her power to try. After all, Asami deserved nothing less. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's see how long "non-committal" lasts, eh? ;)


End file.
